


Outlaws - An American Youth

by s_aned



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Mild Smut, Real slow, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 35,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_aned/pseuds/s_aned
Summary: The old lady smiled, thinking of her long-time lost lover.They were young, fiery and full of ideals, at the dawn of a new world that was, despite their will, already there. Arthur, John, Mary-Beth and all the others. She remembered them as it was yesterday. It was now time to tell their story.
Relationships: Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption)/Original Character(s), Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. 1963

The old lady was sitting at her desk. From there, she could watch her granddaughter, casually lying on the sofa while writing a passionate text about women's rights. What would the girl's future be?

In more than 80 years of existence, Anna Grey had seen plenty of changes. She lived some, too, her history sometimes blending with the big one.

Her attention went back to May. Like her grandmother, she was passionate and opinionated. But she was looking like him. Same eyes, same piercing gaze.

The woman smiled, thinking of her long-time lost lover. She was doing this for her children of course, but also for him. For them.

They were young, fiery, and full of ideals, at the dawn of a new world that was, despite their will, already there. Arthur, John, Mary-Beth and all the others. She remembered them as if it were yesterday. It was now time to tell their story.

Turning her attention away from her granddaughter, she grabbed a pen and started to write.


	2. My Young Years

" _Another Girl_ "

Those were the words of my father on this lovely day of April 1877 I was born. I was his fifth, if we forget about the ones who didn't survived. The poor man had only one desire: have a son. After the war, he married a young girl from a neighboring ranch and installed her on his family land. Eleven years of marriage, and almost as many pregnancies, didn't offer him what he hoped for.

When my little sister Angeline was born two years after me, he took a decision. My mother was already 35 and little hope was left. He looked at each of his daughters and picked me up. He was to educate me as his son, passing on everything he would have done with a boy. My mother let him do. Probably because she felt guilty. And after all, she already had five beautiful girls to take care of.

Growing up, this choice turned out to be the right one. Although I was pretty - I can say it now that I'm old - my sisters had inherited breathtaking beauty from my mother. In town, people ended up nicknamed me the _Ugly Grey Sister_. I tried to ignore them, although it remained ingrained in me for many years. I tried to console myself: it was probably due to my male clothes and the overflowing energy that inhabited me, contrasting with the charming calm that my sisters developed.

Hunting, working in the field and managing the cattle, I learned everything. By the age of 6, my father gave me a rifle and made me practice countless hours. From time to time, my mother managed to steal me away for a few hours. She tried to teach me sewing and embroidery, still hoping I would need it someday. But all of this was in vain, I wasn't gift with patience and would rather run in the fields. She was more successful with the piano, for which I gained certain skills. My father let her do. He loved music and would often play guitar to us.

Besides my education, we led the same simple life as millions of other Americans. After a week of hard work, our family would go to mass. For this holy moment, my mother would make me put a dress on, to present myself before the Lord as He made me, a girl. Then we would all get into my father's cart to travel the few miles that separated us from the city.

Valentine, in New Hanover, was pretty similar to any Midwest city. A central street hosted various shops. There were no brick buildings, as it was often the case at the time. We were building cities and abandoning them without more ceremony, to go further west, further north. Further, always further, where it seemed life would be sweeter, even if it was rarely the case.

The Valentine inhabitants were for the most part brave workers. But people came from all over the state to trade in cattle. Therefore, we would meet all kinds of character walking through the muddy and dusty streets. Poorly dressed cowboys, hucksters, and other groups of travelers with relative honesty.

\---

Life went on calmly, with the seasons, and I must say that my childhood was quite happy. Oh sure, I've experienced sadness. At nine, I lost my mother. Winter had been harsh, and she quickly succumbed to one of those diseases we didn't even have a name for at the time.

As the eldest, Helen took care of the family. It has been a heartbreak for all of us to see her leaving after her wedding. Her jovial character gave way to the inflexibility of my sister Charlotte. She was a beautiful woman, gentle but firm, for whom morality was one of the fundamental pillars of life. She was always dressed impeccably, her bun was never messy, even after the most physical tasks. She fulfilled her role as a pastor's wife wonderfully. Then it was Alice and Rose's turn to get married. Soon, only three of us were left in the house. Me, my father, and Angeline.

Years had passed and I was soon to reach my 22nd spring. 1899, the year everything was going to change.

\---

My father had been dead for a few months when a gang arrived in the region. After a period of mourning, I started to frequent the city again. Whenever I had the opportunity, I would leave the house to escape the lamentation of my younger sister. I liked her, but we weren't very close. Her capricious nature had been reinforced by being the spoiled youngest.

Before my father died, it was decided she would marry the son of an honest, local family. Being the youngest himself, he would not inherit land, so he would come to settle with us. I was no boy, and no one believed that a man would ever want to marry me. Therefore, the farm would return to their offspring.

My sister was languishing. She wanted to become a married woman, with the social position it would bring her. She would no longer be treated as a child and would have a say. My father, then I, controlled everything. She hoped that the arrival of a man in the house, whom she could control as she pleased, would reduce my power over her. But mourning had pushed back her plans. So she sighed, from dawn to dusk, on the sadness of the mourning clothes, on the wedding preparations that could not move forward, on the rain, on the good weather...

I escaped, either to hunt or to go to Valentine's saloon. I had always been granted more freedom than other young women, and my father let me go to these places usually considered to be only for male. But I limited my visits, and monitored my conduct there, as I was afraid he would take that right away from me. Although saddened to lose him, this new freedom intoxicated me. 

When before, I only went occasionally to the little bar nearby, now I was frequenting assiduously the big saloon on the main street. I drank, I played poker and I gave my opinion. Oh, I was putting up barriers of course. My male clothes didn't give me any physical strength, I was unlikely to win if I pissed off someone.

The community accepted my new way of life. My father had always been respected, I continued to go piously to mass and helped those of my neighbors who needed it. The women murmured about me but remained pretty kind. Globally, everyone closed their eyes on this eccentricity introduced by my father almost twenty years before.

The most surprised were travelers and occasional visitors. Some were giving their opinions, but I never really had a problem before this band came to town. It was not the first time that one of them had settled around there. If the smell of cattle flooded the area, money had none. Especially when it was easy one.

These newcomers soon inquired about me. When they learned that I was running the ranch alone, I became the target to loot. They had no idea who they were dealing with ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is the first chapter. Our favorite band isn't here yet but will appear in the next one. I wanted to introduce Anna and give you some of her story. Next chapter will be more dynamic, with dialogue and some action!
> 
> English isn't my mother tongue, I would appreciate some help to improve myself, maybe a beta-reader. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this and will come back. Don't hesitate to comment, like, share! 


	3. The encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on, I'm following the game chronology, so beware of spoilers. I'm making 2 slight modification though: sometimes I will change the order of the missions between the game chapters. And for the need of my story, I'm advancing the timeline. In the game they arrive in Valentine around May/June, here they do around February/March. Good Reading!

Five.

Five corpses littered the front of our house.

It all started with threats. Three times this band had come to threaten my land. They wanted to collect a tax, or whatever name they had given to their racketeering attempt. The last time, they even threatened my sister. So, when I heard the horsemen coming, I ordered her fiancé to lead her into the barn and hide there. Very quickly, everything happened.

This time, they were five.

This time, I knew they won't be there for threats.

There was no hesitation to have. I fired my first shot, a body dropped. Surprise was on my side. How could they imagine that a peasant girl, even dressed as a boy, would have known how to defend herself? They were on my property, I had all the rights. I hit two more before the bullets fired back in my direction. Without thinking, I was protecting my life.

\---

My gun was still smoking when I finally dared to move. Five corpses. But I didn't get the time to catch my breath. Hoofs were heard. Putting myself back under cover, I held my breath. Were they new attackers? Or did my coward brother-in-law find a way to get to town to find some help?

I fired a warning shot at the riders. I did not recognize them. Unless ... One of them looked like the one who fought fat Tommy in the saloon. I yelled.

"Who's there?"

An older, elegant man spoke.

"My name is Dutch Van Der Linde.

\- What do you want?

\- I'm looking for an old acquaintance, Colm O'Driscoll. Our _friend_ here told us that he was ogling on your farm. But I see you didn't wait for us. Have you shot all these men by yourself?

\- One must defend his property, Sir." I answered, coming out of my hiding place to face them. There were five of them. The _friend_ in question looked in bad shape, sitting behind a brown-haired man with a scar across the face.

I didn't have any more time to observe these newcomers. William got out of the barn, wobbling and holding his head. I made a sign for the men to lower their weapons while I went towards him.

"They kidnapped Angeline! I... I couldn't do nothing!"

Of course, the poor man barely knew how to hold his spoon, so fighting outlaws, you couldn't count on it. I ordered him to go to Valentine to seek help. We had to clear these bodies out. My sister, if we could save her, didn't need to see that. I went back to the men.

"This Colm... I suppose you're not here for a social call. I know he's hiding in one of those shacks north of the town. Maybe your _friend_ can save us time and tell us which one?

\- Six... Six points cabin.

\- Arthur, you and the others are going. We will bring your sister back to you Miss."

I rolled my eyes and mounted my horse.

"I'm not in the habit of letting others do my job, Sir.

\- Good, really good. I have other business to run. Miss, Gentlemen."

He walked away and we set off. I remained silent most of the way. In addition to the scarred man named John, the saloon brawler was accompanied by a large mercenary. I listened to their conversation and quickly understood that " _the friend_ " was a member of the gang that had attacked me, the O'Driscoll. Apparently, there had been an open war for years between them and this Dutch Van Der Linde.

Obviously, I had no illusions about these men riding with me. I perfectly knew that, had they arrived first, they would have targeted me just as well. However, I was not unhappy to have them near me to pick up my sister. Furthermore, they seemed to pursue a different goal, a sort of ideal of freedom, with this Dutch as a "life teacher". Of course, I was more concerned with the rescue of Angeline than with these ideological speeches. But I think seeds were sown in my mind that day.

\---

At the shack, I let them take over the operations. They were clearly more used to this kind of situation than I was. I used my rifle when the first exchanges broke out, but let the man named Arthur scout the cabin. After escaping death from a surprise enemy, he looked inside.

"She's there"

I let him quibble with " _the friend_ ," rushing inside to free my sister. She was shaken, but luckily her dress was intact. We had arrived on time. I took her out and the man helped me to get her on my horse.

"Thank you... Arthur?

\- Morgan. Arthur Morgan.

\- Anna Grey. I guess I'll see you in town. I'll show you my gratitude then."

He nodded and I headed for our house. Behind me, my sister cried and trembled. The episode shook her, but being a force of nature, she didn't take more than a few days to recover. And doing so, she regained her capricious character...

\----

The sun flooded the main street of Valentine that morning. On the sheriff's steps, a man was holding his head in his hands. He came out of the cell after some night's agitations and seemed to have trouble leaving it. My voice made him jump.

"Hard night Mister Morgan?

\- mfmf Miss Grey! Let's say I met the delightful company of your saloon.

\- Delightful? In this saloon?" I chuckled. "Have you made new friends?

\- Just one. But he never shut up. So, I helped him with some water.

\- Well, I'm glad you appreciate our company. This is what I promised you. No need to come to get more, everything that our father left us is in your hands or swallowed by the scandalous dowry of my sister."

He laughed softly.

"Well I must leave you to your headache, I've business to run.

\- Wait, you're wearing a dress today! You have a date?

\- I'm marrying my sister Mister Morgan. Try not to disturb the city, let her be the star of the day."

He groaned a laugh and got up on his feet with difficulty as I joined the wedding party. The whole county had come to attend this event. And especially to the meal that followed. At the ranch, we had killed our best animals for the occasion. A beautiful party awaited us. I would meet my friends there, and especially the boy I was "seeing", the few times of the year he came to sell his boss's cattle at the fair.

But right now, we had to pray God. And while the priest was saying his verses, I realized what would become my life. We would go back home, William would take over the reins. Not immediately of course, he didn't know much about it and wouldn't dare stand against me.

But as all men, he would want to make his wife happy, at least to have peace. And my sister would never accept it being said in town that I was the one wearing the pants. At that moment, the future seemed to darken. Not enough a man to lead the ranch as I intended, not a woman enough to have a normal wife life. When the rings were exchanged, I let out a discreet sigh.

My fate was sealed.


	4. My destiny shifts

As expected, the first conflicts with the newlyweds soon arrived. I no longer remember what subject prompted me to flee the ranch that day. But the excuse was found to go to the saloon. The place was rather quiet on this spring afternoon, as a few regulars haunted the place. I sat at the bar and ordered a whiskey.

I had already drunk up several glasses when two men entered. One of them was Arthur Morgan, accompanied by a massive man. Obviously, what I noticed first about him was his skin color. Although the city attracted visitors from all walks of life, most of them were white. I was not used to seeing people with dark skin, and I stared at him probably a bit longer than I should have.

They settled at the other end of the counter, so I was able to see them without much effort. Arthur met my gaze, and I touched my hat to greet him. With a chin gesture, he questioned me about the delirious man next to me. Mack Anderson had been talking my ear off for the past 10 minutes. Drunk, he made obscene remarks to me. I shrugged and asked Eddie, the bartender, to serve the two newcomers.

"Come on, you're the last sister left. I could never have catch one of the others, but I could have my way with you. Don't be picky, you're the ugly sister, you should be grateful someone wants you."

I remained stoic. He was far from being the first to have given me this speech.

"Come on girl, you know you want it. You've been with losers in the past, you won't say you're too good for me now. You'll see, you'll like it."

He never shut it. I rolled my eyes looking at Arthur, then told Eddie to fill my glass, which I drank in one go. Suddenly, a scream burst in the room. I had planted my hunting knife in Mack's hand, pinning him to the counter. After throwing a coin at a bewildered Eddie, I calmly walked out, clamoring:

"Take him to the doctor before he bleeds out like a pig. The sheriff knows where to find me."

I smiled discreetly while getting back on my horse. It was bad, but I was pretty proud of myself. I couldn't say why, but I was happy that my impulse took place before the eyes of the two men of Van Der Linde.

\----

Of course, the sheriff didn't lock me up. He had enough to do with the vermin the city attracted. I was treated with a weak sermon. On her side, Angeline did not have this delicacy. She broke my ears for several days about this incident. She thought of her reputation with the "ladies" of the city, as if we were in the high society of New York or I don't know where.

To escape her shrill reproaches, I went hunting that day. I don't know what reason pushed me to go through Valentine. Of course, it was not an unusual path for me, but it was far from being the only one. Maybe ... Maybe I wanted to meet one of them again, without daring to admit it to myself?

Entering the city, I froze. The streets were empty, except for the bloody bodies on the ground. I did not recognize any of them. An unhealthy curiosity made me move towards the main street. Shots were fired near the stable, as men pushed a wagon. It was not the first time that I witnessed a confrontation on the streets of Valentine. As usual, I should have turned around towards the train station and the road leading to our ranch, waiting for the event to pass.

But this time, some madness made me decide otherwise. Going straight, I went around the main avenue and the stable. Hiding behind it, I analyzed the situation. I recognized Arthur and Dutch Van Der Linde, as well as the man with the scar. Another, looking very different, was injured. The latter three mounted their horses, leaving Arthur to face the guns alone.

In front of him, many men. Valentine people but also strangers. Without thinking, I grabbed my rifle and started shooting. There was no more reason, no more logic. I shot people I had known all my life, my neighbors, to save the skin of a man I had only met a few times. An outlaw.

He got on his horse and I ordered him to follow me. I knew every corner of the region. We were galloping at full speed, him shooting at our pursuers while I was leading our mad breakaway. My goal was to reach the Dakota River to change state and lay low there for a few hours. The bullets continued to whistle but I couldn't turn around to reply. All that mattered to me was to flee. 

As far as possible from my life.

\---

We stopped in a clearing, getting off our horses to get some rest. He thanked me and handed me a bottle of whiskey. I took a sip as my heart rate returned to normal. I was slowly starting to realize what had just happened. I remained stoic, drawing out the balance of events aloud.

"I just shot my neighbors, my community. 

\- Looks like it. 

\- It's gonna be weird next Sunday at church. 

\- What are you going to do?"

I didn't answer. I used to think before I act, to build up all kinds of plans, this was completely new to me.

"For now, I'll wait. Then I'll help you go back to your camp. After that... After that I don't know. I've never left this area. I got a sister in New-York, but she'll end up knowing what happened. Don't know how she'll react."

Now seated, I gave him back the bottle. We stayed silent for a while.

"You could come with us. You're a good shooter, you know how to handle yourself. I'm sure we could find a place for you. At least until you get things straight. You helped me good up there, I owe you that."

I nodded. Here's how, from simple daughter of a farmer, I found myself enlisted with outlaws.

\----

The night was already far advanced when we came out of our hiding place. We moved silently through the undergrowth, until we were finally able to cross the river again. I was guiding him to the ancient village of Limpany.

"Well, that's cozy. What happened here?

\- It was one of those cities that took advantage of people traveling between states. Everything burned when I was little, I never really knew why. People avoid coming here, which makes it a great hiding place. I stashed a few things there when the O'Driscoll started squinting too much on our farm."

I showed him the way that led directly to his camp. He had to go there and see what the plan was while I got my belongings. After watching him ride away, I headed for what was once the sheriff's office. There, under old charred planks, I had hidden some things. A change of clothes and a dress, a pistol that belonged to my father and of course, money. My sister knew nothing about this hiding. She had never been involved in the management of the farm and therefore did not know the simple value of these green bills.

Since my father died, I "preserved" part of the farm profits and hid it. I started long before the arrival of the O'Driscoll. The official reason was that I feared my brother-in-law's appetite and preferred to keep a safety cushion in the event of a bad year. But the truth ... Hadn't I been planning in the back of my mind, unconsciously, my near departure?

After putting away my things, I sat on what used to be a porch. I was on the lookout. There were two hours left before sunrise and the wait seemed endless. What if he had used me? What if he never intended to pick me up? After all, what did I know about this man and his gang? They had helped with my sister, of course, but in the end, I had very little discussion with them. I did not know them.

Anxiety began to gain me, so I did what I do best: planning. I could have gone up to their camp, I vaguely knew where it was. But I was not sure I would have been welcomed and I knew that they were armed to the teeth.

My plan B, the only achievable, was to rush to Valentine and throw myself at the feet of the sheriff. There, crying all I can, I would have explained: " _They threatened to kill Angeline if I did not help them. I did everything to avoid hurting someone, oh my God, tell me I didn't kill anyone, please, I'm sorry._ " Again, I was a bit of a drama queen.

Obviously, if he had agreed to leave me free, I would have become an outcast. So far, they always accepted my particular condition and my few misconducts, out of habit. But now, the situation was way more serious. It would have taken them a lifetime to forgive me. And what a life. My sister would probably have thrown me out of the house.

As the minutes passed slowly, I prayed with all my might to never have to execute this plan...


	5. Starting point

Dawn was not far away when I heard horses approaching. I got my rifle ready, but it was not necessary. I breathed a discreet sigh of relief. Arthur kept his word and was accompanied by the man I saw at the bar.

"We are going to inspect a place for the new camp, Dewberry Creek, in the South. You know it?

\- I think... I think that marks the border with the Southern States. _With Hell_ said my father. I didn't think you'd want to go there." I answered, unconsciously glancing at the man named Charles.

His presence would probably not be well received there. My father had often told me about the horrors done to men of color in these regions. Of course, the war he had fought for had ended for over 30 years. But are 30 years enough to erase decades of abuse?

"We don't really have a choice...

-Ok, let's go then. I reckon that going through this road we won't have much company."

After this, I didn't say anything for a while, listening to them talk about the gang, the Pinkerton. I was trying to link all this information, to get an idea of the situation I put myself in. Arthur ended up remembering my presence, bringing me out of my silence.

"Nice horse you got there Miss Grey!

\- Call me Anna. She's a gift from my father. When he realized that, by raising me like a boy, he would never have to marry me, he thought a part of my dowry could be converted into a good horse. He made a good deal, she is so impossible that his breeder never thought it could sell her. He was about to send her to a glue factory! But I always knew how to deal with horses.

\- Hang on a second, I think that must be it up ahead" announced Charles. "Seems very open...

\- Yeah it does. Ain't sure it'd be the best in the rain, neither. Let's take a look around.

\- Hey, I see something over there."

A man was laying in the cove. Vultures were already fighting over his corpse. I stayed on my horse while my new companions inspected the scene.

"He's been shot. Looks like trouble got here before us.

\- There's a camp just ahead...

\- Sure. Let's get ready for business. Miss... Anna, stay down the path and watch out."

I did so while they searched the tents. They soon discovered a woman and her children. Germans. The father had been kidnapped and Charles wanted to help them. Arthur was not pleased with this decision but bowed to the will of his friend. So we went in search of the man. I listened to them bickering, but I was mostly absorbed by Charles' ability to spot the kidnappers' tracks. My father had taught me how to track animals, but I would never have been able to follow this one.

They started talking about a certain Jack, and I quickly understood that he was a child. I didn't know that outlaws were traveling with kids. I was wondering if there were others. They brought up John, the man with the scar I met a few days earlier. Was he Jack's father?

"There's another camp up ahead...

\- Be careful. Anna, you go back to the shore and wait for us there.

\- But!

-No talking, it can be dangerous."

I grumbled like a child who was refused a treat. Very quickly I heard gunshots. I got off my horse, took my rifle and approached as quickly and discreetly as I could. By the time I got there, they had already untied the poor man and Charles was leaving without a word.

"I told you to wait for me.

\- Guess patience isn't my strong suit.

\- I'm going to bring this man back to his family. Start cleaning the place, we're going to settle here."

I put myself to work. Of course, I couldn't move the bodies before Arthur returned, but I started to sort out what could be used, like food. With a little work, we made the place ready to receive people. Once our task was done, we sat down and lit a well-deserved cigarette.

"Will my arrival be a problem?

\- I asked Dutch and Hosea after coming back from Valentine, they had no objection. They know you've helped." He started talking to me about the band members, briefly.

"I'm going to try to remember all this, but I can't promise anything... You know, I'm glad I intervened back there.

\- Won't you miss your sister?

\- No. I like her, but God she's impossible! And now she's married, it's even worse. She acts like she's the queen of the world. When everybody knows her husband is a stupid and good-for-nothing man.

\- Won't she starve if he can't do anything?

\- Meh, I don't worry. The farm runs alone with the employees. He doesn't really have to work to buy jewelry or dresses for my sister. If he doesn't squander my father's entire fortune on every whim of hers, obviously."

He frowned.

"The fortune?

\- Did you really believe that was all the money we had left?"

He looked at me, stunned, before laughing out loud.

""Well Miss Grey, ain't you full of surprises..."

\----

The day was already well advanced when we heard the noise of the wagons. They were coming. I suddenly felt nervous. They were numerous, and I landed in their daily life without being announced. Arthur took the first step towards Dutch, who, cigar in hand, was already planning big things in this new place.

"Dutch, you remember Anna?

\- Of course! Miss Grey, welcome. Arthur told me everything about your help in Valentine. There's always room for those who work hard and can handle weapons. Miss Grimshaw, will you please take care of our new member?"

A lady in her fifties nodded, before going back to shouting orders to everyone who crossed her path. . I watched in amazement the ballet that was unfolding in front of me. It was a well-oiled mechanic. Everyone had his mission and knew perfectly what to do.

"Hey new girl, a hand here?"

I looked up at the woman. She was blonde, with pretty curls framing her face. Attractive, her forms were highlighted by her white and purple dress. I grabbed the crate she held me out and set it down as directed.

"I'm Anna.

\- Karen. They said you brought misery to the O'Driscoll back there. Help me unload the rest."

Until sunset, we set up camp. I did my best to be useful, or at least not to hinder my new fellows. Fires were lit, and a man named Pearson, a former Navy soldier, began to prepare the meal. The girls introduced themselves. Karen, Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Abigail. We ate mostly in silence; I was given some information here and there. The journey and installation had been long for everyone, so we went to bed early.

I had been installed with the other girls, who were sleeping on a wooden platform covered with a rather thin carpet. I had with me the sleeping bag I carried during my hunts. Tucked in it, I couldn't sleep right away. I had to deal with all this new information, these new sounds, these new people. My life had indeed changed.

\--

I woke up after a couple hours of sleep. I joined Abigail by the fire, where she served me a coffee. I was surprised she hadn't slept with us.

"I sleep over there with my son, Jack."

Charles and Arthur's conversation about the boy came back to my mind. I observed the camp, a few people were already up, busy with their daily tasks.

"Don't worry, you will find your place here. Grimshaw will give you millions of things to do, it's her specialty."

I smiled as I watched her walk away. She was not wrong, soon the matriarch gave me work. Installation had to be completed. Then I got a tour of the "property" and was told how the camp was working. I took advantage of a moment of calm to make my contribution, part of the money from my hiding place went to the box.

I met Mrs. Adler. She too had seen her house being attacked by the O'Driscoll. But she had been less fortunate than us. She lost her husband and her home to these foolish men. She found herself in the gang by a combination of extraordinary circumstances. I then realized that I could have lost Angeline. I had trouble bearing her, but I wasn't sure I would have recovered from her death.

My first day went by without a hitch. I had a good welcome from everyone. I knew it, I was going to enjoy myself among them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing has always annoyed me in this mission: when they take the camp of others, they recover NOTHING. There were tents, cots, but no, they throw everything and the girls continue to sleep on 2 pallets and a carpet. I also noticed that in the wagon next to which they sleep, there is a bed installed, which looks much more comfortable. But I've never seen anyone sleep there.
> 
> For the relationship between Angeline and Anna, I was inspired by my great-grandmother. Before her marriage, her sister employed her as a maid on her husband's farm and treated her badly. So when my great grandmother got married, she built a house on the same model as her sister's, but made it just a little bigger, to taunt her. I think it's perfect revenge!!


	6. The art of hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. In this chapter, 2 songs will come up. The links will be in the ♫

I was among them for three days, doing my best to fit in. I spent my time mainly with the girls, even if Arthur would occasionally come talk to me. I was still looking for ways to make myself useful. After all, they were doing well without me. Above all, I feared being a burden. No one was really hard on me, but I was not one of them yet.

That morning I heard Pearson complaining about the lack of food, and how he couldn't make a meal out of air. His complaints seemed to fall on deaf ears. On a bunch of deaf ears. It was my chance. I walked over to Arthur.

"Anna, how are you today?

\- I want to be useful, we lack food and I know how to hunt. Usually, I would go by myself, but I didn't want to leave without warning someone.

\- You did well. You're new and not used to this life, I don't want you to lose yourself. I'm busy, but you can ask Charles to go with you, he's an excellent hunter."

I nodded, showing nothing of my frustration. I told him about my plans only out of politeness, I did not think he would stick me with a babysitter. And Charles intimidated me. Big and taciturn, nothing appeared from his ideas or his emotions. The exact opposite of Sean. God, this man was talkative. He had a strong Irish accent and seemed unable to remain silent. But despite that, I found him funny.

Observing the camp, I quickly spotted Charles. Sitting on a trunk, he was cutting wood to make arrows. Breathing deeply, I approached him.

"Hi Charles.

\- Anna." He replied without looking up. He said no more, no banalities on my acclimatization or on the weather of the day. I had to get straight to the point.

"I would like to go hunting, but Arthur doesn't want me to go alone. He suggested that maybe you could come with me.

\- You know how to use a bow?

\- Uh, I must admit that I don't. It's not a widely used weapon in Valentine.

\- I don't take you hunting if you don't know how to."

He didn't add anything, totally absorbed in his work. I stayed there, not knowing what to do. Was he waiting for me to educate myself? Was it a way to get rid of me? After a few seconds, he put down his work and finally looked up at me.

"Ok Anna, let's teach you."

He handed me the instrument before heading for the cart that served as kitchen. There he grabbed the bucket in which Pearson emptied the beasts of their blood. He also found a useless wooden board. Then he asked me to follow him. When we reached the shore, he built a target and hung it on a lonely tree.

The lesson began. As you would expect, the man was stingy with words. He started by shooting several arrows to show me the position to adopt, the way to hold the bow. He hit the target in its center every time. Then it was my turn. It was much more difficult than I imagined. It was necessary to develop a certain force to succeed in stretching this rope. The second challenge, was to manage to keep the arrow in its place, without tightening it too much so it can leave, but enough not to make it fall.

The first attempts were catastrophic. I finally managed to master these first two steps. I had now to send the arrow into the target. Again, it wasn't an easy task. Charles would correct my position from time to time.

"Watch your left arm. You have to find the exact position. It takes precision to handle a bow."

On his advice, I finally hit the target. I was far from being in the middle, but it was a start. After two or three arrows touching the wood, Charles declared:

"Good. Keep practicing. I will take you out when you'll able to reach the center."

What a challenge he threw me there. But I wanted more than anything to go hunting. As the hours went on, I improved my technique, missing the target less and less. But after a while, it seemed like I couldn't progress anymore. I couldn't find any more solutions to do better.

Night had fallen now, without my being able to reach that damn central circle. And as I missed it, my frustration grew, my patience diminished. I felt on me the half-curious, half-mocking looks of men. Usually gathered around the fire near the "kitchen", this evening they had decided to settle at the scoot fire, having a perfect view of my torment. There were Javier, Sean, John, Lenny, and Charles. After yet another failed attempt, I decided to join them.

"I'm fed up. I know it's not in the center, but I'm not far, we could /

\- No.

\- I know how to hunt Charles, I have been hunting since I was 6 years old. Okay, not with a bow, but/

\- Not far is not enough. We won't hunt until there is an arrow in the center of this target.

\- It's ridiculous, seriously!

\- It is how it is.

\- Didn't you hear Jack cry? What the heck, the kid is hungry and you nit-pick for what? For a few inches on a target? I can very well go without you."

I had raised my voice and was now ready to ride my horse. Charles got up and raised his voice too, to the surprise of the men around. It was unusual of him to get carried away, he always spoke little and in an equal, monotonous voice.

"It's not a few inches. When we are outside, I must be able to trust you completely. We are not nice farmers who take a walk. We are wanted men, do you understand that? What will happen if we run into enemies? What if we are shot? Separated? You know nothing about this life, it's not because you played cowboys in your village that you're ready. You are too impulsive and it will play tricks on you. You are not ready."

Furious, I said nothing. I ripped off the bottle of whiskey he was holding and took back the bow I dropped earlier. I threw it against the tree and walked away onto the beach, sitting with frustration against a rock. Drinking a sip, I felt tears rising. I was frustrated, lost and most of all, I knew he was right. I had often been impulsive, like with that idiot Mack Anderson in the saloon. But it was home. I knew everyone, I was safe there. I had wanted to get out of my bubble, I was now realizing that I was in no way the warrior I imagined myself to be, while I was cleaning stables. The return to reality was rough.

I furiously wiped my tears when I heard someone coming closer. It was Arthur, he must have attended our discussion from afar. We spoke so loudly that the whole camp must have heard it.

"You regret joining us? It's not too late to play your hostage comedy.

\- And become my sister's servant? Never.

\- You should take a break and eat.

\- I don't deserve to eat. I don't want to be one more mouth to feed. All I can do is run a ranch and hunt. The first one is useless here, and I am not allowed to do the second. If I don't bring anything to eat, I'm a burden. And then I'll have to go, and be on my own. But who would hire me? I am not a man, I cannot have a real job. But I'm not a woman enough to be married, not pretty enough to sell myself. I'm stuck.

\- Well, it's a lot of pressure for a single arrow.

\- Sorry, it had to come out. You can leave me Arthur, I'll get over it.

\- I know Charles is tough but I trust him. He just needs some proof."

He walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I rested there, my eyes lost on the water and the reflections of the moon. Its glow allowed me to continue training all night. This weapon was hard to tame. It don't think the rifle had caused me so much trouble. But I was a child at the time, and the stakes were not the same. I had learned over the seasons to improve myself, to know all the tricks. In this situation, I didn't have the luxury of time. I had to prove myself, quick.

\-----

In the early morning, as the camp woke up, a blessed arrow pierced the center of the target. I lowered my bow and blinked, wondering if I was not dreaming. I started again. One, two, three times. I hit the target every time. I got it. This victory made me laugh softly. The relief and the pride were immense. Arthur joined me. Before he could say a word, Sean arrived.

"Wait, wait, I too have a challenge for you!

\- Sean." Growled Arthur.

"But it's to convince Charles that she knows how to handle herself, look, he's watching."

We looked up at the camp and indeed, Charles, rifle in hand, was watching us. Sean put three bottles on a rock, probable bodies from his drinking the night before. I looked at him, taken aback.

"You want me to shoot the three bottles?

\- Yes, don't worry, it's a bit difficult but I know you can do it."

I pretended to hesitate, looking at the exact position of each bottle, their distance. I was laughing inside my head, my father would have given me this exercise at the age of 8. I looked at Sean while taking out my revolver, then Charles, still far away. Without taking my eyes off the latter, I pulled the three bottles blindly. All broken. Sean was speechless, Arthur laughed in amazement. Charles true to himself, didn't react.

"Well gentlemen, if you have no more tricks for me, I will go and make myself useful."

Moving away with my proudest step, I joined the camp. I had always had a fondness for theatrical outings. Maybe I should have made it my career?

I decided to take care of the horses, giving them a haystack. Once fed, I approached my mare and clung to her neck. I was exhausted. The recent events and the night of archery had drained me. I was having a hard time getting used to my new environment. I had always slept in my house or in the calm of the forest, now I was to deal with this crowd of strangers and their erratic rhythm of life.

After taking care of the horses and some chores for Miss Grimshaw, I moved away from the camp. I sat under a tree and closed my eyes. I only wanted a few moments of rest from the perpetual movement of the band. Too soon, I heard footsteps, but I was too tired to watch who was approaching.

"Friend or foe, just let me sleep.

\- I thought you wanted to hunt."

I suddenly stood up to these words. Charles was standing there, a bow in his hand. I regained my composure and spoke detached.

"I thought you didn't trust me?

\- You want to hunt or not?

\- If I had known I just needed to pull three bottles to convince you, I would have done it much sooner.

\- That's not what convinced me.

\- Arthur forced you?"

I looked up at him questioningly. He shook his head.

"Lenny was on call and told me that you had persevered all night. And we have to eat. We're leaving now."

I sprinkled water on my face and went after him, excited, but I tried to stay calm. I didn't forget his words from last night. I wanted him to trust me. I saddled my horse and we set off on the path leaving the camp.

"By the way, my left hand was the problem.

\- I know."

The silence felt as dry. I dared not say anything. This hunt promised to be long and boring. For this first outing, he didn't want to go too far. We would be content with rabbits. This decision worried me a little. I only shot at a big, fixed target. These critters were small and fast. Unsurprisingly, I missed the first bugger who passed by. But I hit the next one. We soon had enough animals to feed the whole gang.

We didn't talk much. I was happy to return to the camp with my hands full, especially to find people with whom to have a real conversation. I wasn't fully integrated yet, but I was getting more and more comfortable with the girls. Tilly approached me, a photo in hand.

"You dropped that when leaving earlier, I kept it for you."

I thanked her while looking at the laminated paper. It was a family portrait, taken shortly before the wedding of my older sister, Helen. My sisters were all dressed for the occasion, more beautiful than ever. As for me, I had worked all morning and barely had time to change into my Sunday dress under Alice's insistence. In the cart bringing us into town, she tried to arrange my hair as best as she could. I end up putting a hat on my head and hiding behind my sisters. My father stood in the center, proud as a rooster.

"It's your sisters?" Mary-Beth had come closer.

"Yes. This is Helen, the eldest. She's always cheerful and has a bunch of children. To her right is Alice, who married a New York merchant. This one with her angelic face is Rose. On the other side are Charlotte, married to a Pastor, and Angeline, whom I left in Valentine.

\- They are very beautiful.

\- Yes. Now you understand why they all call me the _ugly sister_.

\- It is unfair. You would be as beautiful as they are if you had something else than that old cowboy shirt on your back. How about your hair? Oh yes, let us style your hair."

I laughed while putting away my photo. It was not the first time that I heard this speech. My sweet Rose was the one who least accepted my nickname. How I missed her. She had followed her husband, a teacher, to places further west, bringing her knowledge to young ignorant. Never had we seen a better matched couple. They were of incomparable kindness and patience. I prayed that their character, idealistic to the point of naivety, would not cause them any problem in these remote and wild lands.

\---

One evening, the girls and I found ourselves near the campfire with the men. If there weren't any rules, I noticed that men and women tended to stay apart. Javier strummed the strings of his guitar while Karen was complaining.

"We need new songs, we always sing the same ones over and over. Anna, go ahead, teach us some Valentine songs.

-Oh no I don't think you want to hear me.

-Oh please, I heard you the other day, I know you have a pretty voice." Mary-Beth encouraged me.

"I know only sad songs.

-Sing anyway!"

I hesitated, before catching the harmonica that was in my pocket. Having asked Javier to accompany me, I finally started. I vibrated the first notes on my instrument. It was a song my father learned in the South during the war. Although the lyrics left room for interpretation, we liked to imagine the story of a dying soldier, whose last thoughts go to his fiancée.

"[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NefEu2knPyk&ab_channel=BluSky709) _You are my cotton flower_

_I ain't nothing but a lonely rider_

_I do not know who is right who is wrong_

_Even though I hear the robins crying_

_I don't worry 'cause I'm only dying_

_Sing this song for you to sing when I'm gone_

_It don't hurt no more Ma_ "

The silence welcomed the end of my song.

"I told you that I only know sad songs ...

\- It was very beautiful Anna."

I recognized there the romantic spirit of Mary-Beth, always lost in her mushy books.

"Sing us another!

\- Very well but don't blame me if the atmosphere of the evening is ruined."

"[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hCebq5lLgos&ab_channel=Original16) _She was bathing in the creek_

_Prettiest girl in the whole damn holler_

_So I went a courtin' Kate McCannon_

_Got me a job and I quit my ramblin' and_

_Every day I'd save_

_A quarter of my pay_

_I could buy a diamond ring_

_Lord and one day I come home to find_

_My darlin' angel's not inside_

_So I made for the creek_

_Where she and I did meet_

_And found her with some other lover_

_And I put three_ rounds _into Kate McCanno_ n"

"Damn, you guys are happy in Valentine. Bunch of bloody English I'm sure. Javier, quickly, a song to drink."

I smiled at Sean's remark as he sang something worthy of a saloon. I took a sip of my beer before trying to keep up with the hectic pace of my companions. It was a beautiful evening, full of laughter and songs. I went to bed happy, finally feeling in my place. 


	7. Scenes from daily life

The camp was still very calm when I woke up that morning. We could feel the sun coming, although still hidden. Without making a sound, as the girls were still sleeping, I got up to get closer to the water. Soon the rose and gold from the sky came dancing on the water of the lake. My sister Charlotte was a very good watercolorist, no doubt she would have transformed this landscape into a masterpiece.

Not having her gifts, I concentrated, trying to capture every reflection, every shadow, in my head. I wanted to engrave this moment forever. I felt such serenity that I was cut off from the world. That's why I jumped when someone approached. It was Hosea, the thinking head of the team, Dutch's reasonable other half. If the latter was the captain, Hosea was the navigator, the one who turned his friend's dreams into reality.

"I didn't mean to scare you.

\- I admired the landscape. Oh, I suspect you've seen much nicer places than this. But I've always lived in Valentine, I never really strayed from it. And this is the first landscape of my new life. So, this lake, these mountains... I feel I'll never get tired of looking at them.

\- It is a great quality to see the beauty of the world, and to know when to stop to admire it."

We said nothing for a few long moments.

"You shouldn't hang around too long, or Miss. Grimshaw will drag you back to work."

I laughed softly and nodded, heading for the camp. The tasks were rather simple and repetitive: providing water for the kitchen and the dishes. Caring for horses. Doing the laundry. Chop wood. Life on the camp's protective grounds was no different from life on the ranch. Livelier. Messier. More joyful? It's the memory I have of Clemens Point camp.

I did my best to complete all these tasks. It seemed to me that this was the best way to gain acceptance, as I wasn't part of their world. The only job that was taken away from me was sewing. It had never been my strong suitand Miss Grimshaw noticed it very quickly. But I had proven myself elsewhere.

\-----

That day, there was tension between Pearson and Sadie. The man kept throwing spikes at her, so much so that she ended up losing patience and brandished the knife she was using. I think if Arthur hadn't intervened, she would have killed him. She did not like cooking, she wanted another job, to participate in the life of the gang, just like men. Arthur took her shopping in Rhodes.

"At least, you're a reasonable woman Miss Grey.

\- I don't think so Mr. Pearson. I didn't like my future, so I joined you. She was happy and lost everything. In her place, I too would have pinned you."

He groaned something and we went back to work in silence. I was finishing cutting the vegetables when Sadie and Arthur returned. I helped them unload the cart, while Pearson resumed hostilities against the young woman. I hurried to get away from their incessant quarrels. I still took the time to compliment her on her new outfit.

Indeed, she had taken advantage of this getaway to buy clothes that she found to be more comfortable: a shirt and pants. She had also added a belt and a holster to her range. I wouldn't be the one to criticize her choice of dress, as it was mine, I could only understand it. Nothing could beat the feeling of freedom and strength that came from men's clothes. A simple piece of cloth changed our way of being, and with it, our way of facing the world.

\--

One day, an unknown man entered the camp. He was the only one I hadn't met yet, he was coming back after what he called "a time of penance", followed by a lucrative stagecoach attack with Arthur. Wearing a blood-red shirt and a white hat, what set him apart from the others were his long blond hair and his mustache. There was something different about him, I think I noticed it right away. I had a strange feeling the first time I met his steel blue eyes.

After greeting Dutch and putting money back into the box, he walked over to Karen, a few yards from me.

"Did you miss me Karen?

\- As much as the miraculous regrets the plague."

The man laughed and sniffed loudly, before turning to me. I focused on my work to avoid meeting his gaze. I felt him watching me and it made me uncomfortable. However, he was not the first to do so.

"Well well, what have we here? A new face. You sure know how to clean a rifle" he said with a libidinous voice. I felt like I was back in Valentine's saloon.

"But what is with the frock? I leave for five minutes and now women are wearing men's clothes. What a shame.

\- And what would it have changed if I had been in a dress. Your chances would have been the same, Mister?

\- Bell. Micah. I would have kissed your hand, but I'm not attracted to cowboys.

\- Ah! That's what you all say, before you come crawling."

He had fat laugh.

"Well, I see you around Missy..."

I rolled my eyes as I watched him leave and resumed my work. Arthur joined me.

"You met Micah.

\- Yes... He looks like a delightful man...

\- I should have let him stay in prison when I had the opportunity.

\- Why didn't you do it?

\- Ah ... Dutch asked me to. And then I guess he's part of the group, whatever happens, we stick together."

I nodded and got up to take my shift.

"Well, as long as he behaves."

Camp surveillance was a full-fledged task in this life on the run. If most of the time, men did this mission, Karen did too, probably because it allowed her to escape Grimshaw. Since she wore pants, Sadie had also been on the guard team.

The hard part was to distinguish the sounds through these large trees, and to differentiate them from the noises of the camp. I never had to do the night watch, I dared not imagine how the songs and other noises of drinking could disturb the unfortunate having to ensure the safety of all.

\---

After a few hours of a rather boring guard, John came to take over. We exchanged a few trivialities. He seemed to be rather interesting, although a little reserved. He had a certain charm, I must admit. I understood why Abigail had fallen for him. But it looked like she was biting her fingers now, John not living up to her expectations. He had a hard time being a father to Jack, which Arthur blamed him for. But it was none of my business.

Returning to camp, I passed Arthur and Lenny, riding horses. The latter informed me that they were going to teach a lesson to some local rednecks. A quick and easy mission. He offered me to accompany them. I hesitated. Arthur didn't seem to mind. After a brief reflection, I refused.

"But I was told you did pretty well back there in Valentine.

\- It was different, I was defending my family. I'm not sure I'm ready to go with you yet. Another time?

\- As you wish, see you later."

As the end of the day was calm, I took the opportunity to discuss with Mary-Beth about her books, each more romantic than the other. I borrowed one anyway, sneering like a teenage girl at some parts. It was certainly not great literature, but it did pass the time.

Arthur and Lenny had finally returned, their mission had been a success. Night came, meetings around the campfire with it. A little away, I listened, amused, to the men singing a song worthy of a saloon. I didn't know it, but it left little room for interpretation. I don't remember the lyrics to this day, only its main subject, the "Ring Dang Do". When they were finished, they noticed my presence. Javier spoke.

"I hope we don't shock you Anna, but that's also the life of the outlaws."

I laughed softly. "Don't worry, I need a lot more to be shocked.

\- So, does that mean you left a man near your Ring Dang Do?"

I spit out a sip of my beer, surprised by so much audacity, while Arthur slapped Sean on the head for daring to say such a thing.

"Maybe..." I said, walking away, a mysterious look on my face.

Approaching my tent, I met Micah, who apparently heard everything.

"I can ride it if you want to...

\- And yet I don't see you crawling Mr. Bell."

Without listening to his answer, I went to bed near Sadie. "What a jerk" she muttered. I nodded before turning on my back. I observed the starry sky, thinking of the men I had known. Because no, I was no longer a virgin at the time. Oh sure, morality condemned it, but I think I was far from being the only one to have lived like that, no matter what they try to make you believe. Having been raised as a boy had given me some latitude, but of course the choice of how to use my body was not one of the liberties I was granted. I was still a woman, and a woman should definitely not lie down with a man other than her husband, even less before getting married.

So I stayed discreet, so as not to attract the wrath of my community, although most of the men were probably not fooled. They only avoided talking to their wives about it, guardians of good morals. But one thing is certain, I was certainly not the first peasant girl to frolic in the straw. I felt asleep on the images of these lovers from the past. I never imagined finding one anytime soon. And yet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dear" Micah arrived! It was a slow chapter, but I needed it to make a transition. Next chapter will have some action.


	8. First adventures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : violence & offensive language.

The whole happy band was like an ogre: always hungry. Reserves were rapidly dwindling. If vegetables and alcohol were purchased from the local store, Pearson relied on volunteers to go hunting. I hadn't been since the first time, and it itched. Although the camp was pleasant, I liked to change of environment. This time I didn't have to beg Charles. He came directly to meet me.

"We're going further than the last time, I would like to bring back big game. We'll probably not be back until tomorrow.

\- I guess I have to take my bow?"

In response, he stared at me stoically. That would fill my desire for adventure. I hurried to gather some things, including my sleeping bag, before installing them on my horse. Revolver on the belt, I still took my rifle. Prudence is a mother of safety, as Charlotte liked to remind me.

We set off, saluting Sean who stood guard. He made a comment that the noise of the horses covered. Probably a derogatory remark, knowing him. I cannot say today where we went that day. I just remember that we had ridden for several hours before arriving at our destination.

We hadn't talked much. I wasn't quite comfortable yet. With him, silence was much easier to maintain than discussion. I took the opportunity to admire these unknown landscapes. Oh sure, they weren't much different from back home, mostly made up of plains and woods. But to know that I had never set foot there excited me. I was trying to imagine the feeling my ancestors encountered when they crossed the ocean to discover this new world full of promise. I asked Charles for his opinion. His response was scathing.

"You mean when they massacred part of my ancestors for their land? Or when they snatched the other one from their homes to make them work to death to get rich?"

Surprised, I was silent. That didn't make me feel more comfortable. Fortunately, we arrived in an undergrowth where he detected traces of animals. We dismounted, bows in hand. I left my partner's tracking skills at work, making as little noise as possible. Squatting in the thickets, we had a clear view of two magnificent hinds. Together we bandaged our bows and hit the bull's eye.

"This should feed us for a few days. It will be dark soon, we should camp."

I nodded, before I approached the animals. I was trying to grab one of them to load it onto my horse, but I had to face it: I didn't have the strength. Leaving Charles to do it, I took a few steps away. I cocked an arrow again, aiming at a rabbit. Our dinner was found.

We moved away to settle in a clearing. After long minutes of silence by the fire, Charles spoke.

"Sorry about earlier, I was rude. But you must understand that not everyone has the privilege to romanticize the past.

\- I didn't mean to upset you. I never had to think about it. You know, my family has always been to the east or the north, they were not involved in the traffic of black people. My father fought for the Union and always hated the South. But of course, having lived in New Hanover, there is no doubt that our land was stolen at one time or another, I have no excuses for this part.

\- There is no excuse for the things they've done, even if there was, it would never be enough. An apology, an excuse? It means nothing compared to the lives of millions of innocent people"

The words he spoke hung in the air, like a thick layer of snow on a mountaintop. The silence was deafening, though it spoke more truth than anything.

"We may not be able to change the past, but can't we give back for those who are still alive?

\- Even if it was the government's intentions, do you really think the owners would let it go? And even if they gave the lands back to the Indians, is there enough of them? Have they kept their culture after years of bullying and reformation school? I don't even remember the name of my mother's tribe. No, I think it was all lost the day the first white man set foot on these lands."

We said nothing more, just staring at the dance of flames. I cogitated, looking for answers in the face of so much pessimism. But the subject was beyond me. I was young and naive. I still thought that with goodwill and hard work, you could do anything. What disappointments I was going to meet in the future.

\----

Neither of us were very hungry, so we decided to save the rabbit for the next morning. He ordered me to sleep while he was on guard. I woke up after a few hours, watching in my turn. When dawn broke, I started to heat some coffee before heading for the river below. I doused my face with cool water in a vain attempt to wake up.

As I went up, a man's voice rang out. It wasn't Charles. My hair stood on the back of my neck. I was now very alert. Discreetly, I approached. Three men stood there, ready to draw. Charles was trapped.

"Do you know what we do to your kind around here? We cut them in pieces to give to our dogs."

They sneered. The one who spoke turned his back to me. Moving as silently as possible, I slipped behind him and stuck my knife under his throat. I hissed in his ear.

"It's funny, that's exactly what we do to bastards at my place.

\- Ok girl, we can chat."

I stared at his two comrades and for a moment, pretended to think about his proposal. My gaze slid towards Charles, now ready to draw.

"No."

With a quick gesture, I cut his throat. The other two had been so stunned by my arrival that they hadn't even had the presence of mind to take out their revolvers. They weren't outlaws, probably rednecks trying to prove themselves. They had chosen their target poorly. Charles got rid of them without any difficulty. I wiped my blade on my already stained pants before I spoke.

"We should go before any of their buddies visit us. Too bad for breakfast. Can you fix the hinds on the horses? I take care of the rest."

We did it quickly, without a word. Once on horseback, we decided to follow the stream in order to dispel our tracks. The return was like going, in silence. I could feel his gaze behind my back. He who wondered a few days ago how I would react to enemies, he had his answer. I had it too. We always imagine ourselves to be strong and powerful, but the reality can be quite different. This time, I knew how to react.

Soon my mind wandered. I laughed, to the surprise of Charles who questioned me.

"No, nothing, I'm just thinking of stuff that I could say to Micah. I don't believe we will not comment on the fact that we left overnight."

I heard a rustle behind me. Was it a smile? Silence fell again between us.

"Thank you for... you know.

\- Well, I guess that it's my signature to use knife with pigs."

To my surprise, he laughed. Oh, not a frank laugh, it was more like a whisper. But it was the first time I heard him make a joyful sound.

\--

It was midday when we arrived at the camp, where the smell of stew was floating in the air. Mary-Beth opened wide eyes when she saw me covered in blood.

"My god, what happened to you?!

\- This time was a bit... messier"

I cast a knowing look at Charles and got out of my horse. Kieran came over to undo the doe of my horse. I took the rabbit and brought it to the kitchen cart. The girls then dragged me to the table and served me food. I wanted to get up and protest, do my chores, but even Miss Grimshaw told me to sit down. During this time, Arthur had gotten closer to Charles, but the girls' discussions prevented me from hearing them. And then Micah arrived, his famous sly grimace hanging on his face. I was about to release my greatest acting game.

"So you spent the night with the Redskin. I thought you liked real men.

\- Micah Bell, how can you think that I would give myself to someone other than you?!! You break my heart, really! What do you think girls, what would be his performance?

-No five minutes!

-Not thirty seconds!

-I don't even think he could lift it" I said, looking him straight in the eye.

We laughed as he walked away, spitting harsh sentences. A look at Charles made me see that he was smiling. Oh sure, it was just a slight quiver of his lips, you couldn't speak of a real smile, it was not his type. Arthur noted it too.

"Charles, is that a smile?

\- She rehearsed these sentences on the way back." He said shrugging

"Quite a woman

\- Hmm"

I noticed Karen's outfit, much more elegant than usual. I asked her the reason, but Arthur called her before she could answer me. Tilly explained to me that they were going to Valentine to rob the bank. Suddenly rising, I called Arthur and ran to him.

"Miss Grey, Charles told me what you did this morning, it's admirable on your part but I won't take you with us

\- No, that would be crazy, with me by your side you would be spotted before you even get to town. No, I wanted to give you this"

I took out a key which I wore around my neck.

"Chest 427, you can take the cash but bring me everything else."

Arthur nodded and got ready to leave.

"Oh, and Arthur, chest 230 is sensitive, it belongs to that old crone Mrs. Marsh. She is overly rich and has no heirs, treat yourself.

\- Thank you, Miss Grey."

I returned to the table to finish my lunch. I then inquire about the tasks to be performed.

"Mrs. Grimshaw, do you need help?

\- Not at the moment, go wash yourself, you look like you've slaughtered a pig.

\- it's pretty much right." I said softly.

I went to our tent to take my other outfit. It wasn't much cleaner, but at least it wasn't covered in blood. Tilly followed me, looking annoyed.

"I washed your other outfit, I didn't think you would need it. It's not dry.

\- It's very nice of you Tilly.

\- I can lend you a dress if you want, while waiting. I know you're not used to it.

\- It's okay, I have one in my stuff." I sighed.

It was one of the things I had hidden in Limpany, just in case. Dress in hand, I walked towards the horses. Meeting Charles, I offered to take care of Taima, as I was going to take care of my own mare, the doe blood having stained her beautiful chestnut coat. He accepted.

"Come on girls, we deserved to take a dip."

I moved away from prying eyes in the camp and took off my clothes stained with blood and sweat. I returned to the water, cool but pleasant. I let myself float for a moment, my long black hair fluttering to the rhythm of the wavelets. The horses followed me and after washing myself, I took care of them. Back on dry land, I lay down in the grass. In the sun I took a nap, while my underwear was drying. When I opened my eyes, Mary-Beth was approaching.

"Charles began to worry, not seeing his horse return.

\- All is well, I give us a little rest. But I must have dragged on too much, I'm here to help you.

\- Oh, you know, it's a calm day, we did the laundry, darned what there was to darn. There is not much left to do."

I put on my dress, she helped me to close it. It was very simple, consisting of an ecru blouse with a little lace and a black skirt.

"This dress fits you very well, you should put it on more often.

\- I feel weird when I do, like I'm out of step. I don't have the elegance to wear it.

\- You're saying nonsense. Your hair is beautiful, I could style it for you if you want.

\- If it makes you happy"

I grabbed the reins of the horses and returned to the camp. This one was indeed very calm. After feeding the horses, I joined Mary-Beth. While she carefully worked to unravel my mop, I read her book aloud. As usual, a text very mushy, but all in all fun.

\----

Proud of her, she handed me a mirror. A braid adorned the top of my skull before ending in a bun. I had to admit that it didn't go so badly. But I will never have the patience to do my hair like this. I was there with my thoughts when the others returned to the camp, blustering.

Karen moved closer to us, announcing that Dutch had declared a party in honor of the success of this mission. She complimented my hairstyle, before ordering us to hurry to join the others.

"I'm coming, just give me time to change, my outfit should be dry by now.

\- You're wearing a dress! No, you must keep it for the party, please.

\- No, I'm being ridiculous, and everyone is going to make comments.

\- Impossible, you have to keep it, you forget that your trunk is brought to you."

I looked at her with a big smile and gave in to her request. After all, they were bringing back my most beautiful treasures, those I had sheltered by fear of the O'Driscoll. I walked over to Arthur. Some whistles and comments were launched on my dress, but I ignored them.

"Well Anna, what surprises you reveal to us today. You are full of aces, but also a real woman"

I gave him a pat on the arm, smiling. It was fair.

"As promised, the contents of your safe, minus the cash."

I grabbed the bag he was holding out to me before returning to my bunk. It contained some of my mother's jewelry. My sister knew nothing about them. My father would surely have wanted to offer them to her at her wedding, but she had had many others, and my mother had promised them to me. I slipped the amethyst ring on my finger and hung her medallion around my neck. Besides a few photos, there was a book. I smile and hug it. Of all these items, it was the most precious to me.

I joined the others who had already started the festivities, and the cases of whiskey. It was a beautiful evening that could have gone on forever. We were young and carefree. There was lightness in the air that only summer campfires can provide. Javier played us tunes to sing, tunes to dance.

"Mary-Beth, if you hadn't forced me to wear women's clothes, I could have been your partner!"

She pouted and I laughed. "I'm kidding, I had five sisters to make dance at home, come here". I whirled her around. At the end, out of breath, she bowed a little to me and we burst out laughing like teenage girls.

As the evening progressed, the groups dispersed throughout the camp. A little away, under the effects of the bottle I was holding in my hand, I was dancing alone, although the music had stopped. Javier came over.

"You like to dance Anna?

\- Sometimes it feels good to let go and not think about anything.

\- Do you know that musicians are cursed? We can't make pretty girls dance because we play.

\- Maybe but you can seduce them with romantic songs in Spanish. I'm sure it works. Or wait for Uncle to pull out his banjo and invite someone" I said laughing.

He gave me a funny look and moved closer to me.

"I thought you wanted a pretty girl?" I replied to this movement

"Exactly"

I backed away before his hand reached my hip

"I'm not pretty Javier, I'm new.

\- What?" The mists of alcohol slowed his brain.

"It was like that at the saloon. You could have the most beautiful girl in the world, as soon as a new one arrived, pretty or not, all the men rushed on her. I am not pretty, I am new.

\- Come on Linda" I took out my knife and held it out under his chin.

"Never with your neighbor, that's my rule. I didn't drink enough to break it.

\- You know where to find me when you're done with that" He said, showing my bottle.

I shrugged and walked away. At the entrance to the camp, Charles stood guard. As soon as the party was announced, he grabbed a rifle and moved away. Definitely, what a fun guy, I thought as I joined him.

"Anna. You seem to be having a good time.

\- I must admit that I do. You should try it sometimes.

\- hmm

\- It's hard to have a conversation with you.

\- I lived a long time alone, I still have to get used to the company.

\- Quite the opposite of me, I feel like I've never been alone. I think sometimes I am too playing too much and it will play tricks on me. Like, Javier hit on me.

\- Do you want me to talk to him?

\- No, I managed much worse than him. But I should probably stop drinking before I lose my mind and say or do things that I may regret.

\- I think it's wiser."

I left him my bottle and joined the girls, already installed for the night. They were talking about the men. Karen was returning from some nocturnal escapades with Sean. I was listening to them while smoking a cigarette, when the pretty blonde began to tease me.

"Javier, Charles... It looks like you are successful Anna.

\- One has drunk too much and the other is ... well, Charles." I said looking puzzled, not knowing how to describe his way of being.

"And never with your neighbor, it was the golden rule I followed in Valentine. If we do this with someone we see every day, we expose ourselves to everyone's eyes. And then at the beginning, it's always all rosy, but it always ends up festering, tensions are created. Everything must be done to avoid projecting this kind of idea onto people you know. No, I'm telling you, nothing beats strangers or passing people that we only see a few times a year ...

\- It's not very romantic!

\- Look at me Mary-Beth, it's been a long time since I've given up on having any romance in my life.

\- I don't see any harm in imagining things, as long as we don't take action." said Tilly.

"The problem is that by imagining things, the next time you see the person, the images come back to you. So, there's a tension in the air and invariably ... It leads to action.

\- You seem to have a good grasp of the subject. How do you avoid thinking about it then?

\- My dear Karen, it's very simple. Valentine had a woman, Mrs. Marsh. Imagine Mrs. Grimshaw twenty years older and with a penchant for bigotry. It was the Lady Morale of the city, always repressing people on their outfit, their words, or any other element that displeased her. Of course, she had a very bad eye for the freedom that was granted to me. As soon as I started having this kind of idea, I forced myself to hear her voice lurking in my head. I swear there is nothing more effective."

They laughed at this image. We continued chatting for much of the night, before finally falling asleep.


	9. Theater and women's rights

I woke up with a terrible headache. The camp was idling after this wild party. Once I've done the few tasks that were assigned to me, I returned to my bed and took out the book that had been returned to me the day before. An Opera book ¤.

I discovered it at the ranch, one day that I was going through the trunks of our attic. I immediately stopped in front of this stunning booklet. The words on its cover sounded magical. La Traviata. Inside, I found the text being in English as well as in Italian. My eyes would linger on these unknown words.

My grandfather and his brothers were among those few Italians who immigrated in the 1840s. He found himself an American girl in New York, and soon after my mother was born. When she was 10 years old, her parents decided to try their luck further West, where she, as an adult, met my father. My mother spoke little of the language of her ancestors, teaching us only some songs, some words. Our family was American now, we had to speak English.

I remember going down to question her. She was surprised to see this long-forgotten booklet. She leafed through it, before explaining to me how, still a maiden, she went to New-York. Her family there were now prosperous and managed to get seats to attend an opera written by an Italian, Verdi. Oh sure, they were far from the stage and could barely see the actors. But for my mother who for years had only known the harshness of the West, it was a dream.

She remembered those moments with great emotion. Closing the booklet, she handed it to me, and told me to keep it preciously. "It could teach you a few things about life."

I hurried to hide it away from my sisters, thrilled by this complicity with my mother. I was sometimes jealous of my sisters, who received so much learning from her, when I was deprived of it by my condition of "boy".

Sitting by the lake, I plunged back into this text with delight, rediscovering the joys and sorrows of this strong woman. I never knew what lessons my mother wanted me to learn from this story. Should I be wary of the risks of being an independent woman? Or on the contrary, should I never make concessions and live despite good morals?

\------

At nightfall, I joined the others by the fire. I was asked about this book I haven't left all afternoon. After learning its subject, Mary-Beth begged me to tell this story. Some walked away laughing at the mention of this love story. But others remained to listen. Javier grabbed his guitar and played background music.

"This story is about Violetta, whose lifestyle depends on her beauty and the generosity of her lovers. At a party, she met this innocent man, Alfredo, who is in love with her. First making fun of him, she's finally convinced by his feelings.

For months, they live hidden from the world in an expensive country house. To sustain this way of living, Violetta sells all the things she owns. She doesn't want Alfredo to pay for a thing, as her previous lovers were doing. This time, it's true love, and she wants to prove it by not accepting a cent from him.

One day, as Alfredo is out for some business, his father arrives at the house. He begs Violetta to leave his son. He argues that soon, she will lose her beauty, boredom will come to the couple and they will inevitably separate. On the other hand, he has a daughter who was to be married to a man she loves, but the wedding had been cancelled because of Alfredo's reckless lifestyle, casting a shadow on the family reputation.

Violetta fights, she wants to prove the sincerity of her feelings. But in the end, she accepts to sacrifice herself for the good of the young girl. She leaves Alfredo, making him believe that she's going back to her previous lover.

Later at a party, furious, Alfredo throws all the money he just won at the games to her face, telling everyone that he's now clear of debts. He treats her like all the men she knew before.

Months went by, Violetta is now seriously ill with tuberculosis. Everyone has left her, she's all alone in her apartment, the creditors waiting at her door like vultures. She receives a letter from Alfredo's father. He has explained everything to his son, he's coming to see her. She looks in the mirror, seeing how much she has changed. She has lost all hope.

 _"[♫](https://youtu.be/yM2T4Jltu2I?t=6400)_ _Goodbye, beautiful dreams of the past,_

_The pink of my cheeks is already faded,_

_Joys and sorrows will come to an end_

_Neither tears nor flowers will adorn my grave_

_No cross with my name on these bones_

_Ah, God, smile at the lost woman!_

_Forgive her, receive her near you_

_Ah, it's all over now"_

After a few days, Alfredo finally arrives, begging her to live. He promises, they'll soon be back in this country house they were so happy in. His father is here too, regretting his past action. He now sees how much they love each other. Suddenly, Violetta gets up, feeling better.

_"It's strange_

_I feel my strength reborn_

_I come back to life_

_Oh Joy!"_

I let myself fall in a dramatic gesture. "She's dead," I said, getting up to see the reaction from my audience. Unsurprisingly, Mary-Beth had tears in her eyes. My performance had its effect on my companions, who congratulated me as if it were my invention.

"But it's so sad Anna, why can't they be happy?

\- That's why it's beautiful Mary-Beth! These are the stories that we remember at the end. And she was lucky in a way, she knew true love, it's way more than many women, courtesans or not.

\- I'm not sure I want a love like that." Said Tilly, the most down-on-earth of us all.

"Have you ever heard the music of it?

\- Never. My mom always told me it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. I think this is the only dream I have, being able to hear it too."

\---

The next day, I discussed this story again with Mary-Beth. Dutch called out to us as we passed his tent.

"You're quite an actress, Miss Grey!"

I blushed slightly. I never imagined that he had attended my performance the day before. Behind him, Miss O'Shea looked at me haughtily, almost badly. Jealously? She was the mistress of Dutch for a few years and things seemed to fall apart. She never mixed with us, nor participated in camp tasks. Her days went by looking at herself in the mirror and lazing in the tent she shared with the leader.

"I have a phonograph here, and I think you might be interested in this. Come here! You too, Mary-Beth. I took a closer look at the list of songs in my possession, and it seems that this is from the Traviata." [♫](https://youtu.be/O3xfn7xPf0g?t=269)

He turned on his device and music filled the camp. I thought I recognized the words of the toast of the first act. Bringing my hand to my mouth, emotion overwhelmed me. I had never heard an opera and did not know what to expect. I was touched by so much beauty and could not hold back a tear.

"Thank you, Dutch. It's... It's really beautiful.

\- You're welcome Miss Grey" he said, fixing his eyes intently into mine. Oh, Dutch knew how to be charming when he wanted to. His charisma must have caught more than one in his nets. I winced imperceptibly before walking away, feeling his gaze following me.

\---

"Well, well, I didn't know you were doing the love counselor Arthur."

The man laughed at the idea. We were riding towards the Gray property, one of the big estates of the region. Arthur was helping there a young man from the family to communicate with his fiancée, born in the rival clan. Everything was good to reach the gold of these families.

After greeting the guards, I followed him to the stables. An elegant young man, barely older than me, was standing there.

"Your name is Grey too? Maybe we are cousins?

\- No risk" I hissed between my teeth.

I could not bear to be associated with these crazy southerners. But this one didn't seem very mean, only naive. I listened to them speak. He read the letter Arthur gave him and got carried away. Apparently, his fiancée wasn't just a simple lady from the South as they are pictured in the North. She had ideas. That day, she was to walk with other activists for women's rights. He begged us to follow him. He was afraid for her safety.

We met the women at the entrance of Rhodes. Penelope was a real southern beauty, with her blond curls and her crinoline dress. But she was endowed with an undeniable determination. She was decided to participate in the event, whatever the danger. Arthur found himself enlisted as a driver and I was amused to see him lost among all those signs promoting women suffrage.

I was riding in the back of the procession, staying alert. Partisans sang cheerfully, making sure the whole city heard them. The men soon left the saloon and the shops, looking contemptuously at this unusual crew. Protests and insults soon began to rain.

I had never attended such a speech before. Of course, I had read the reports, often acerbic, in the newspapers, or, very rarely, when a woman could give her opinion in the columns. Mrs. Calhoon delivered her ideas with passion, without ever weakening or being intimidated by the hatred of men. Her words echoed in me forcefully. Equality between men and women. What I've touched all my life without really getting it. This woman gave me faith in the future. It took courage to dare to make such a speech, in the South as elsewhere.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur taking away Beau. He made me a discreet sign to stay. Mrs. Calhoon miraculously managed to go through with her speech. The men were more and more numerous, and I feared an overflow. I proposed to Penelope to escort her home. She protested first, then finally gave in to reason. I helped her jump on the back of my mare and we left.

On the road, we talked. She was an intelligent and passionate girl, our conversation was pleasant. It has been a long time since I had such an interesting conversation with someone. The girls in the camp were nice, but rarely sought depth in the subjects we discussed. It was one of the things I missed from my sister Alice. We would spend hours debating about everything and nothing, for the sake of reflection alone. After she left for New York, we wrote to each other a lot, but it was not the same.

\---

That evening around the fire, I recited Mrs. Calhoon's arguments. As Tilly hung on my lips, the men snickered softly. It was all over their heads. They were out of society, the right to vote for men did not concern them, so that of women! We ended up talking about how we were raised, and our prospects as women.

"My sisters and I were lucky compared to many others. Our parents gave us an education. We can read and write, and they have given us a capacity for reflection. Even if it's of little use to us in the role of wife and mother.

\- I don't understand what you are complaining about, life does not seem so hard. You get married, you have nothing more to do. The money comes to you and you stay at home all day.

\- That's the problem, Sean. This is all that society lets us do. Being locked up at home, without being able to decide our lives. Serve our father and then our husband, until the grave calls us. You call that a life? You boys have no idea what it is to be a woman.

\- At least here it's different.

\- You think? But look, the women are doing the laundry, taking over your things while you run the roads and the saloons. Tell me how it's different.

\- We let you drink with us."

I sighed at such ignorance. The fight was far from over.

" Well, well, you're trying to lead a revolution Miss Grey?"

I froze for a moment. Dutch had the gift of surprising me when I least expected it. The truth was, I was intimidated by him. By his leadership position of course, but also by the charisma and the intelligence he exuded. He was always reading books and expounding great theories. Everytime we talked, I wanted to look intelligent and witty to him. Ah, the pride of youth.

"Isn't that what you hope, Mr. Van Der Linde, a better world, without the conventions and morals imposed by society?"

He smiled at me before going back to smoking his cigar, his gaze still on me. I supported it for a long time before wishing them good night.

\---

Life was running its course at Clemens Point. I was hunting, doing my chores, and attending all the campfires. I tasted this new life, sweet as a peach that we enjoy under the July' sun. This was the happiest time of my life among the outlaws, and yet I now believe that the first cracks appeared there.

I don't know why, Dutch figured that peace with Colm O'Driscoll, his lifelong enemy, was possible. So, he left the camp, surrounded by Micah and Arthur. But when they returned a few hours later, the latter was not with them. Surprised, I questioned the girls. They just shrugged, replying that this often happened. Arthur liked to wander alone and make a living outside the camp.

A few days later, a commotion at the entrance to the camp brought me out of my sleepy state. Arthur had returned, and he was in bad shape. Multiple traces of beatings, blood, but most seriously, a bullet in the shoulder. I approached his tent where Miss Grimshaw was already busy.

"Everything will be fine, Miss Grey, don't you worry.

\- I can help, I've some knowledge..."

As a teenager, I developed a strong interest in medicine, cutting out each newspaper article on the subject to keep it in a box. For my 16th birthday, my father, I don't know how, got an old edition of a Gray's Anatomy. It was one of the few medical books available at that time, and without a doubt, the most complete. I plunged into it for long hours, trying to understand and remember all this information.

Of course, my only patients had been the cattle on the farm, and maybe once a sick sister. If Valentine's doctor hadn't been a complete idiot, maybe I could have learned from him. However, I already had acquired some good reflexes.

We took off Arthur' shirt and inspected his wounds. The ball came out, which was a good point. Reverend Swanson approached with a suture set, and water was brought to us. While we were washing the wounded man, I couldn't help but look worriedly at the Reverend's trembling hands. The man of Church had long been lost in the throes of alcohol and drugs, oscillating between paranoia and whining. I was not reassured to see him sew up my friend. I looked up discreetly at Miss Grimshaw.

"Let me do it Reverend."

The matriarch gently took the needle from his hand and set to work. I placed my hands on Arthur's shoulders to keep him from moving, but it was not necessary. He was unconscious, exhausted from his wounds.

"That's done. Go to bed Miss Grey, I'm going to stay with him tonight."

I nodded and headed for my tent. Abigail, worried, called out to me. I reassured her the best I could, but I knew the fight was far from over. I watched her go, a little quieter. I never quite understood their relationship. Sometimes I felt like Arthur cared for Jack more than his own father. And he seemed to be the one the young woman turned to when she had a problem. However, one could not speak of a fraternal relationship between them. Was it a missed opportunity?

\----

When I woke up, I brought a cup of coffee to Miss Grimshaw and took her place with the patient. I wiped his forehead, hoping to bring down the fever that had won him overnight. Charles had brought me plants that we put as a poultice on his wounds to prevent infection. We took turns so that he was never alone. Days passed without any sign of improvement. His fever even seemed to get worse. One evening we thought we were losing him, and the Reverend wanted to administer the last rites, but Susan and I replied with such force that the poor man walked away.

Exhausted, I went to rest. I had such nightmares that night, that when Abigail woke me the next morning, I thought I was about to hear Arthur's death. But she announced to me with a smile that he had woken up. Oh, he was barely conscious, but he had opened his eyes for a few moments and tried to grumble something. I rushed to his bedside and helped him drink some water. He fell back into a deep sleep, but this time the fever seemed to be gone.

He came to himself in the evening and was able to swallow a little bit of broth. He still slept a lot for the next few days, but his time awake got longer and longer. It was unfortunately accompanied by great suffering. I did my best to soothe him, but as the saying goes, only time heals wounds.

The days, then the weeks passed. As soon as my duties at camp were discharged, I came to keep Arthur company. He was getting better, without returning to its former strength. His face remained pale and marked. Despite everything, he was still a very handsome man. I can admit now, I was fascinated by this character, however older than me. He had the look of someone who had seen a lot, maybe too much. But when he smiled at you, your whole body would warm up and a feeling of serenity would take hold of you. He was funny too, in his own way. Sarcastic, he was no less generous. During this recovery time, we forged a strong bond, uniting us until the end.


	10. Bison

The weeks passed and Arthur's wounds eventually healed, but he was still not ready to go back to his former misdeeds. For his first outing, Charles offered him to come hunting bison with us. I was excited, I had never seen them up close. These beasts generally avoided approaching Valentine, where human restlessness was too strong, and my father preferred to hunt in the forests north of the city rather than on the great plains.

"You know, it was before my time, of course, but my mother used to tell me stories on how her tribe moved with the bison. They lived almost as one. Where the bison went, my people went. They were the center of all life, we couldn't survive without them. There was a lot of respect...

\- I don't remember much of my childhood but my people, we pretty much moved with the whisky.

\- Ahaha, well my father did that too."

It was the first time I heard Charles talk about his parents. He always seemed more talkative alongside Arthur, revealing himself without hesitation. The latter had even managed to make him laugh with his silly comment on whiskey. So his father was drinking. The more I spent time with them, the more I realized the happy childhood I had.

After hours of riding, we finally spotted what we were looking for. Charles spoke, sparkles in his eyes."Over there, you see them all? Incredible, aren't they? We should kill only one of them."

I was galloping alongside Charles, leaving Arthur the honor of killing one. Watching them was enough for me, and I almost didn't want to chase them after the almost sacred way Charles had spoken of them. Soon we were riding among these majestic beasts. Their size impressed me, and I had to constantly reassure my mare who did not seem to appreciate their company too much. It didn't take long for Arthur to shot down one. He always impressed me with his shooting skills, the best among the gang. The best I've ever seen.

I got off my horse to approach the beast on the ground. I felt ridiculously small by its side. I stroked its fur as Arthur began to remove the interesting parts. I returned to my horse, smiling at Charles. I was delighted with this outing. Traveling the plains thrilled me. But the man seemed concerned. He had spotted vultures and wanted to know what had attracted them. As Arthur climb back on his horse, we headed to the scavengers, only to discover a dreadful scene.

"Look, bison. Shoot and left for dead,

\- Could it have been an animal?

-No, they've been shot. I just don't know why anybody would just leave them to rot like that...

\- It doesn't make sense, even the most barbaric hunter from my place wouldn't have made such a mess." I declared, as we advanced, finding more and more corpses. Inspecting an old camp, we decided to go after these men.

"Bastards, just killing for fun

\- You think we can talk?

\- I don't kill for fun, I kill when I need to."

Discovering another corpse, Charles speeded up his mount, galloping like crazy towards the smoke we could see in the distance. I clung to my mare's mane as she followed the frantic pace of its fellows. When we reached the camp, I tensed. Charles, usually so calm and thoughtful, walked frantically towards the strangers, with an expression that I didn't know he had.

"Did you fool shoot those bison?

\- What's your problem?

\- I said, did you fools shoot those bison?

\- Calm down, you black or red bastard, whatever the fuck you are.

\- Did you shoot them?

\- Yeah, we did. We shoot them bison and we will shoot you too if you don't get.

\- What business of is it of yours what we...

\- IT'S THAT BUSINESS OF MINE"

I couldn't help a slight cry from my throat. I put my hand to my mouth. Charles had just blown the brains of the more vindictive of the two. He was screaming now. A shiver ran through me. I had never seen this aspect of his personality. In this instant, I found him terrifying.

The other man was begging for his life. Arthur grabbed him by the collar and bullied him for answers. They had been paid to pretend that the bison had been killed by Indians. For what purpose, I never understood.

"Just kill him Arthur"

I looked up at Charles. I never imagined that of him. Killing in cold blood. I tended to forget who these men were. We would hang around only in the camp security, or hunting. I had never seen their real faces, the ones that were wanted in many States. Arthur released the man, much to Charles's displeasure. He angrily declared he was going back to the camp. I decided to stay with Arthur, watching him search the camp while I stood there, still shaken by what had just happened.

"You'll have to toughen up, that's our life. Better get used to it. 

\- I know, and I accept it. It's just that... I don't know. He says he only kills when necessary, then he shoots this guy and wants you to kill the other one. Oh, sure, it's not a big loss. But, I dunno. I mean, I don't like to see animals killed and left to rot for nothing. But kill a man for that, I don't know.

\- We all have our wounds Anna. Haven't you planted a knife in the hand of a poor drunk? You could have asked the bartender to take him out, as you could have let us save your sister without coming, or not intervene at Valentine. And yet, you too have chosen violence."

\----

Later, I joined Charles who was dining by the fire. When I asked him if he was okay, he replied with a monosyllable. Charles the stoic was back.

I couldn't question him any further, Sean and Javier having joined us. Micah soon arrived too, a sly smile on his face. Javier was his target that evening, telling him among other nasty things to return to Mexico. The answer was immediate. With a punch, he put him on the ground.

"You hit like you dress Javier, feminine.

\- So, a woman can knock you down, Mister Bell?

\- I'm the one who's going to put you on the ground Missy if you keep going.

\- My knife would love it."

He grunted before walking away. Charles looked at me.

"You should be careful with Micah, he's not one to stop there.

\- Don't worry, I know this kind of guy. When they boast like that, they are not dangerous. Believe me, it's when men are silent that you must beware.

\- You really have to beware of Charles then, he never says anything." Sean said. The man rolled his eyes and left the campfire while I laughed.

"Well you're not totally wrong, I've seen how he is when he's pissed, believe me, I will never try to mess up with him."

We spent the night laughing, Javier playing music softly. Everything was fine between us, there had been no awkward moments since the last party. I even wondered if he remembered hitting on me. Uncle was telling stories, constantly interrupted by Sean. The latter was very expansive and exhausting but enlivened our evenings. Karen came and sat on his laps, we were singing, we were drinking, unknowingly enjoying our last moments of innocence...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. This is a shorter chapter, I hesitated for a while before splitting it from the next chapter. I struggled a bit with these two, they link with the next part of the story and give some glimpse on Anna's personality. But at the same time I find them kinda boring aha.


	11. The choice of violence

I expected howls of pain, tears, violence.

But Karen remained impassive. We were all taken with horror and sorrow, but she didn't say a thing, didn't move, didn't react. As if all life had left her body. 

Tilly took her hand and gently made her sit aside. Arthur glanced at me, looking sorry. This new loss added a wrinkle to his face already marked by too many adventures.

"It was a trap. The Grays were waiting for us. They used us and then tried to eliminate us. I have to go see Dutch."

I nodded and looked back at Karen. Sitting near the water, she had buried her face against her legs. Tilly and Mary-Beth comforted her the best they could, but there was nothing to do. Sean was dead and nothing would ever console her.

A heavy silence fell on the camp, thick as an autumn mist. Our companion wasn't the best man, but he was appreciated by all. With this event, I was tasting the bitterness of the outlaws' life. You can romanticize it, add the colors of the adventure and frame it with a beautiful philosophy. But this life... This life is just a clock that stops ticking with a premature death.

\-----

"Where's my son? Where's my goddamn son?"

Abigail's screams were the first sounds to tear the air after the announcement of Sean's death. Soon, people started to gather around our leader, trying to find answers. I was taking care of the horse and couldn't hear much. But I quickly understood that the Braithwaite had kidnapped Jack. 

Without any hesitation, I prepared my mare. Getting into the saddle as the men approached, I heard Arthur's voice.

"What do you think you're doing girl? It ain't a game.

\- Good" I said as I was charging my rifle "I ain't here to play"

He was going to reply when Dutch told him to let me come. We set off for the Braithwaite estate. Lenny called out to me.

"You ain't ready for a simple mission but you come for that?

\- I told you, I'm not sure I'm ready for the attack. But this is defense. These sons of bitches attacked our family, a child. And I defend my family, whoever it is.

\- Well said. Loyalty is what matters, gentlemen." Said Dutch.

John was terribly upset. He finally seemed to react like a father, furious and desperate. In the end, he cared about this child. As we approached, Charles stood by my side.

"Stay close to me all along, okay? No matter what happens"

I nodded as we arrived on an avenue framed by centuries-old oak trees. What a breathtaking vision. To think that these estates were built on so much blood and tears. 

A shiver ran through me. I was starting to realize what was going to happen. But I focused on my anger to avoid panicking. My companions needed me to be strong. Jack needed me to be strong.

Arthur had said it. The choice of violence. It was up to me to assume it.

"Get down here now, you inbred trash!"

While Dutch spoke to the guards, Charles discreetly pointed out to me some crates to hide behind. I replied with a nod. The doors opened, letting out a dozen men on both floors. I swallowed hard, my rapid breathing betraying my terror.

"If you aint gonna be civilized about this..."

These words marked the start of the confrontation. I rushed behind the shelter and aimed for the balcony. The shots were coming from everywhere, I had never known anything like it. Compared to that, my adventures in Valentine were just a fishing trip.

As Arthur and John entered the house looking for Jack, we got closer to the building, taking cover behind the low walls marking the courtyard. I met the eyes of Charles, who was checking that I had not lost my mind after this bloodshed. I gave him a sign before setting out again to watch the surroundings.

Reinforcements arrived. Where did all these men come from? We repelled assaults from all sides, from the main aisle but also from the crops. I inadvertently fired a lantern, which spread its fire at top speed on two men. What a horrible death it must be. Seconds, minutes of excruciating pain before succumbing. 

As our last enemies finally fled across the fields, Dutch dragged the matriarch out of her house, pulling her by the hair. While they were trying to get her to talk, I looked around, expecting reinforcements to appear. But soon I focused on the old woman, unmoved by her distress. Totally cold. Truth be said, I did not know myself such coldness. 

"Ain't no rules in war Mister Matthews"

For some reason I still cannot explain to this day, this sentence made me spin. I started to raise the hammer from my gun, but Charles firmly put his hand on mine and said "no" under his breath. It was not a decision that was mine to take.

I froze, realizing what I was about to do. The choice of violence.

I took a breath and looked up at the sky. Through the smoke, I could see the stars. A breeze caressed my face, bringing with it the scent of fire and blood. The domain collapsed on itself. Soon there would be no more stones, no more men, left to support it.

\---

Unconsciously, I joined my horse and got into the saddle. We were leaving without Jack, captive of a man in Saint Denis. The backlash was strong on me, and I heard nothing from the conversations on the way home. Arthur moved closer to me, forcing me out of my torpor.

"You ok?

\- I don't want to go back and tell Abigail we don't have her son.

\- We'll find him, don't you worry."

I remained silent. Livid. All the images of the day were jostling in my head. Sean's death, the bodies, the fire. I was sure the image of this crazy old woman running towards her burning house would haunt me forever. 

And I was right. From the top of my 86 years, I still dream of her hysterical cries. And those of the mother whose child had not been returned.

\---

The peace didn't come with dawn. We all had marked faces and tiredness was crushing our bodies. As the men, I cowardly avoided meeting Abigail's gaze. We had failed and I felt ashamed. Ashamed of being there, performing my tasks as if nothing had happened, rather than riding for Saint Denis.

As the brains of the group discussed how to save Jack, men arrived in the camp, escorted by Lenny. The Pinkerton.

Hidden by the kitchen cart, I motioned for the girls to shut up. They didn't need to know we were there. I listened to their little speech, making a mocking sound at the evocation of the so-called civilized lands of America. What a joke.

Soon threatened by our companions, the agents left, promising to return with 50 men.

Dutch ordered John and Arthur to find us a new place to settle. Meanwhile, we were going to prepare for this new move. Abigail rushed to our leader, questioning Jack's fate.

"We'll save your kid Abigail. But we need to be alive to do so, alright?"

She nodded silently, tears running down her cheeks. Miss Grimshaw put us to work, there was not a second to lose. 

As the caravan left, I took one last look at the lake and its golden mist. I had no idea I was saying goodbye to the happiest times of my life among the outlaws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I should go deeper in my scenes description, but I don't know, I'm a bit lazy and have no inspiration. Hope you enjoyed it. Some good stuff should happen in Shady Belle, so stay tuned !


	12. Shady Belle

Mosquitoes ... Mosquitoes and crocodiles. That's what awaited us upon our arrival in this new camp.

Shady Belle was an old plantation. Once a prestigious estate, it had fallen into disrepair and was now sinking inexorably into the marshes that surrounded it. A cemetery at the back of the property was floundering in the mud, adding horridness to the environment. The air was always warm and full of mosquitoes. Looking back, it's a miracle that no one ever got sick.

The house was rather pleasant, although dilapidated. I was installed on the ground floor with the other girls, while Arthur, John, and Dutch were settled upstairs. The others stayed outside in tents, a situation I had trouble understanding. With a little organization, we could all have stayed inside. But no one seemed to be complaining about it, and I was certainly not going to challenge the implicit hierarchy that ruled this little world.

As soon as they arrived, Dutch, John, and Arthur went to town to find information about this Angelo Bronte. An Italian. Like this grandfather I never knew. He was a quiet but good man, according to my mother. There was only hope that his compatriot shared the same features.

While they were away, we set up camp. Between two tasks, I went to watch over Abigail, worried sick. Thank God, her ordeal was soon over. At nightfall, the men came back, little Jack happily seated in front of his father.

A big sigh of relief filled the place as we all rushed toward the little boy, buried in his mother's arms. Of course, this outcome called for celebration. Javier took out his guitar and played a song in Spanish that we were trying to follow, slaughtering his native language. But we didn't care, all at the jubilation brought by the return of our youngest member. Lighthearted, we celebrated the joy of being together. Like a family. 

\----

As the evening went on, our group split into small committees. Seated at the table, Javier and Uncle played us a playful music ♫, while I made the girls spin until they were dizzy. When the song ended, I walked over to Lenny and asked him for a cigarette.

"Do people dance a lot in Valentine?

\- In my house we did. Dad loved music and I've had 5 sisters to make dance"

Micah approached, staring at me with his eternal lustful gaze.

"You sure know how to move, Missy.

\- And that's just dance, you've no idea Micah...

\- Maybe I'll have some later...

\- Try and I'll kill you."

I got up and walked away, rolling my hips to get him mad. I sat down, bottle in hand, near the campfire where Arthur, John, and Charles were resting. The first started talking to me.

"You seem to have fun.

\- I do. More than I had in so much time.

\- You should really beware with Micah.

\- No, guys!! Charles the buzz killer is back! Don't be a buzz killer Charles. You better than anyone know what I can do with a knife.

\- You make it sound like Charles tried something." said John, laughing.

"What?! No silly. I'm talking about these southern bastards. We gave them a good run for their money, right Mr. Smith?

\- Hmhm

\- God, if we had a dollar every time you make that sound, we could buy the whole damn country" I looked at him mischievously.

"Hmhm

\- Come on, now you're just teasing me. That's no way to have fun. Have a drink, relax yourself. You're young and you're alive. Stop this machine of yours." I said while pressing my index on his temple.

"You too Arthur! John! Seriously, it looks like you're already dead. Just... Just enjoy"

Facing their lack of reaction, I got up.

"Gentlemen, I'm going back with those who know how to have fun!

\- Stay safe!" Said Arthur, his voice full of irony. 

"Yes Sir!"

**\------**

After dancing a bit more, we returned inside. As we were getting ready to sleep, our discussions, as often, deviated on the subject of boys, under the impulse of Karen, who was teasing me. Alcohol helps to forget, they say.

"Come on, you've spent a lot of time alone with Charles, don't tell me nothing ever happened.

\- We barely talk to each other, we just hunt and come back to camp. Nothing very exciting I can assure you.

\- But he's talking to you, I think he told you more things than to all of us combined!

\- It doesn't say much. Honestly, I think I had more conversation with my horse!

\- Come on, you make the man smile. No one does, except Arthur, maybe. If nothing has happened yet, believe me, it will."

I shook my head, smiling. He had charm and was well made, I couldn't deny it. But I had no such plans with him. He tended to treat me like a little girl, snapping harsh words as soon as I opened my mouth. My pride was stung, especially since I could never find an answer to his short, stinging sentences.

"It would be a shame to spoil a girl like you on such a boring man. He wouldn't savor you.

\- Get out Micah!"

The man had discreetly entered while we were chatting and had listened to everything, hidden in a corner. What was he hoping exactly, we were all together, did he think he could charm one of us who had one bottle too many? Arthur entered the house and kicked him out, to our delight. We exchanged a few trivialities before he went up to bed. I still remember our exchange of smiles as he disappeared upstairs.

\-----

A dreadful headache greeted my awakening. I managed to get up with great difficulties, the idea of a coffee for sole motivation. Charles was standing there, a smirk on his lips as he saw my hungover face. Without further waiting, he suggested that we go hunting to try to give me back a human look. I didn't even bother answering. I knew he was right, and my head hurt too much for me to talk. I took my stuff before following him to the borders of the camp. my mare seemed so high that day.

As we passed Karen, she gave me a heavy look. I laughed softly, waving my middle finger to her. Charles questioned me silently, but I shook my head in response.

When Arthur forced me to go hunting accompanied by Charles, I told myself that I'd get rid of him as soon as I would have proved my value to the group. But to my surprise, I started enjoying Charles's presence. I was getting used to his mostly silent company, finding it somewhat comforting.

\---

After a few hours of battering, we found rest by a river. As I was drinking from the stream, he questioned me about my previous exchange with Karen. I laughed softly, wiping my mouth with my shirt's sleeve

"It's nothing. She's just convinced that something is going on between us.

\- What?!

\- It's nothing, don't worry. She just likes to tease people, that's her way to cope with this life.

\- How is she doing?

\- She drinks to contain the pain. I don't know if she loved Sean, but she did have affection for him. And I think ... I think she is truly unhappy. She's a great girl, but she never got the attention she deserves. I hope she'll find someone who sees her for what she is before it's too late.

\- Even if they didn't love each other, it can't be easy to lose someone you have that kind of relationship with. 

\- No ... It's not."

I bit my lips before saying too much. We weren't close enough for me to tell him about Jimmy. Furthermore, I didn't want to bring back the past. It was useless. I looked away while the silence fell between us. I think he understood, but decided to stay quiet, which I was grateful for. To cut this heavy silence, I started to hum a song.

"I don't know this one.

\- I avoid singing it in the camp, given the comments we receive, it'd be misunderstood. It's a shame, the lyrics seemed written for the gang. I think I've never really got their meaning before joining you.

\- You shouldn't mind, they're just fools

\- You're right, it's just... I don't know.

\- Sing it for me."

With my eyes fixed on the stream, I let a voice drop from my throat.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5T1B-fZ5cYU&ab_channel=ColterWall-Topic) _"We'd lay down and we'd listen to the silence of the stars_

_Shootin' 'cross the universe for us to see, her and me_

_We were wild dogs_

_We'd go runnin' through the forest with the grace of an eagle_

_With the freedom of the wind and the strength of our youth_

_Just like our old friend the Indian, we'd only kill to feed ourselves_

_Or to protect those we loved from danger_

_We were wild dogs"_


	13. Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using 2 songs of lana del rey in this, obviously not the good time but the lyrics kinda work with the story so I've been using it.

The first rays of the sun made the dew covering the meadow shine. In the past, this valley must have been a haven for a few peaceful farmers families. But one day, chaos came uninvited. From that moment, the only trace of humanity left were those ruins. Leaning against one of the few remaining walls, Arthur handed me a cigarette.

"Bad business eh?

\- How can things go that far?"

He said nothing, only blowing his smoke slowly into the air. What feeling could these young hearts have seized when the sun rose on these lands, thirty years earlier? Terror. Resignation, surely. The assault was given on a morning like this. A few moments earlier, the sun's rays had passed through the trees, flooding the valley with incomparable softness. A last glimpse of comfort for these men before they encountered their tragic fate.

Trenches covered with sandbags. Old carts. Abandoned cannons. But no more human evidence. Not the slightest bit of fabric that can testify of their passage on earth. I thought about my father. He was only 18 when this war started, and yet he found himself on the front line. None of them had asked to be there. Most were still children, helpless toys of the powerful. Now the birds were singing, the flowers were growing. Slowly, the vegetation was beginning to engulf these long-deserted places.

Thirty years had passed. And yet the crows still whistled their dismal laments.

"I've seen enough. Let's go back."

\----

The camp was silent that evening. Not a heavy or sad kind of silence. It was just... quiet. Sitting by the fire, I watched the flames dancing, the images of the battlefield still in the back of my mind. To forget them, I started to sing for myself, not paying any attention to who could hear me.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT5ZsecJXY0&ab_channel=LanaDelRey-Topic) _"My old man is a bad man_

_But I can't deny the way he holds my hand_

_And he grabs me, he has me by my heart"_

A voice soon joined me. " _Gimme them gold coins_ ". Karen had approached and obviously knew this song. We exchanged a smile as I got up to move to the rhythm of our voices. Alcohol totally inhibited me.

_"I'm not afraid to say_

_That I'd die without him_

_Who else is gonna put up with me this way?_

_I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you_

_They would rue the day, I was alone without you"_

"Anna, I wish you were a boy, you are more amusing than all these killjoys combined!

\- If I were a boy, I would marry you and buy you a house. But I'm just a girl, I can only offer you my bottle of whiskey.

\- I take it!"

I laughed and handed her the drink. She was really an amazing girl. Too bad she didn't get the love she deserved. Stupid Sean, if he had been less foolish, they might have had a chance.

The pretty blonde sat by the fire, carefully holding the liquor against her.

"Sing me another song! The Italian one!

\- No, it's too sad

\- Sing it anyway"

I took a deep breath, hesitating to comply. I knew all the sadness this song could bring us. If I learned the previous song with the girls in the saloon, this one came from my mother. A legacy of her Italian American family.

[♫](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GVQON-muEFc&ab_channel=LanaDelRey-Topic) _"_ _Catch me if you can_

_Dying by the hand_

_Of a foreign man_

_Happily_

_Ciao Amore"_

I opened my eyes, closed throughout the song. Karen was crying. Lenny kept his head low. I sat down and grabbed a bottle. After long minutes of heavy silence, I decided to speak.

"I had a fiancé in Valentine. Jimmy. A nice boy, always smiling. Oh, fiancé, that's a big word. It was no more than a secret love affair, you remember what it's like to be a teenager, everything takes on crazy proportions. We met in secret, taking advantage of any free moment to discover a little more of the other. But after a bad winter, an illness took him. After that, I established my neighbor's rule. It's easier. It avoids getting attached.

But in the end, I think the hardest part was not knowing what would have happened if he had stayed alive. The odds of getting married were really slim. His family would surely have been against it, I was too original for their son. They would have found him a more suitable wife. Maybe even one of my own sisters. I would have been heartbroken. Not that I was deeply in love, I liked him, that's all. But it would have confirmed that I was not the kind of girl we marry. That I just wasn't good enough..."

Karen nodded, tears silently running down her cheeks. If our experience had been different, I believe that our feelings were the same. What if they weren't dead? Would have they fought for us? Could our destiny have been different? We continued to drink in silence, letting ourselves be carried away by the emptiness of the night.

\----

Sadness was still holding my heart when I woke up. As I was doing my chores, I felt a look on me. Dutch was watching me from his balcony. Smiling, he gestured for me to join him. I had no idea what that smile was hiding...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel Karen & Anna would have been the kind of girl to spend a lot of time doing each other make-up, drinking and dancing, making up choreography for tik tok.
> 
> My chapters are getting smaller and smaller! But that was the last of what I called the "connecting chapter", next one should be longer and with a bit more drama.


	14. Saint Denis' Good Society

I clenched my teeth, letting out groans of discomfort. For hours, the girls had been circling around me, washing me, styling my hair, putting red on my lips and cheeks. In this general excitement, I had no word to say. Afterputting me in a dress, their final touch was to flood me with some heady perfume that made me cough.

"It's an official party, not a saloon. Don't make me look like a working girl.

\- Stop complaining, we know what we're doing."

The laughter and comments started again. I let them do, like a rag doll in the hands of little girls. From the stairs, Molly glared at me. She was beautiful, elegant, and refined. She should have been in my place.

\---

A few days earlier, I had joined Dutch on his balcony. A cigar on the lips, he looked at me with bright eyes. This expression meant only one thing: a new idea had sprouted in his head. He had been invited by this Angelo Bronte to a reception in Saint-Denis. He knew nothing more, only that it would bring together the best society in the city, the richest. A gold mine at our fingertips. And he wanted me to be part of it.

"You'll hang a revolver on your ankle. Under your dress, nobody will suspect its presence, it could be useful.

\- My dress?!

\- Did you think you could go dressed like a cowboy? It's the high society of Saint-Denis, not a cattle fair!

-I'm not sure I'm the right person for this mission, Dutch.

-I've already seen you in a dress, believe me, with the one I'm going to give you, you will be perfect. Plus, you have Italian blood and conversation, even if your vocabulary is not the best. This will give a touch of exoticism to which this posh won't resist.

-Molly ticks a lot more of these boxes than I do

-No. I want you."

His black eyes were planted straight into mine. I shivered. Even though he was talking about the mission, no man had ever said such words to me. As if I were indispensable. I nodded before leaving his quarters. I had to trust him, he was the leader for a reason. 

As I went down, I met Arthur, telling him about my new job. He laughed.

"So, you too have been trapped. I'm going to wear a tailcoat, can you believe that?"

\--

Here is how that day, I found myself tied up in a corset, clothed in a princess dress and hairs done like a real lady of the world, according to the magazine that had inspired Mary-Beth in her work. They had all been incredibly kind. Not once did I feel their jealousy. I found it unfair that these girls, older in the gang and undeniably more beautiful than me, had no place in this mission. But no one would contest the decisions of our leader.

I was ready, and I was terrified. Looking at myself in a spotted mirror, I kept repeating my mother's words. " _Nobody is naturally confident. People force themselves. So do like them and pretend. Pretend to be confident, play the game, and everything will be fine. Quickly, you won't have to pretend anymore_."

I took a deep breath and headed for the entrance of the building. Surprisingly, I felt pretty comfortable in this outfit. As if the role I had to play infused in me. With my head straight, I displayed the modest smile so much observed on my sisters' face, well aware of their beauty but knowing perfectly how to make believe the opposite.

Charles helped me get settled in the carriage, the layers of fabric and the elegant shoes depriving me of my usual agility.

"Well, that's a change...

\- Believe me, I'd rather go hunting with you than doing this. 

\- You shouldn't... You look great..."

We exchanged a look, briefly, as the others boarded. I watched him go back to his daily tasks as the carriage drove off towards the city. Very quickly, we were on the main road. On board, we laughed, we drank champagne. What a funny life we were living. Sometimes bank robbers, sometimes invited by the powerful. This life was both exhilarating and terrifying. Always on the wire.

Tight in the carriage, we laughed at our outfits. I wasn't the only one out of my comfort zone that night with my dress unearthed by Mrs. Grimshaw. Only Hosea and Dutch seemed comfortable. They had seen a lot of things throughout their careers, and nothing seemed to surprise them anymore. In his 3-piece suit, our leader's aura seemed even stronger than usual. Even more attractive.

Before our arrival, he gave his last orders. No petty theft. Just gathering information and contacts. Once there, Arthur helped me out of the carriage while Dutch gave his invitation card. All the men had to hand their weapons. Mine was kept well hidden under my petticoats. A man named Luca guided us. Dutch grabbed my arm as we entered the impressive building, sending Bill and Hosea into the crowd as we went upstairs with Arthur to greet the famous Mr. Bronte. The henchman warned us.

"Mr. Bronte... he has a thing for... eh... Respect."

What a strange thing to say. I never understood the meaning of these words. But I didn't really care about the conversation, too busy admiring the place. This house was even grander than the plantations we had left behind. Paintings, marble, statues, everything was amazing. And to think that not long ago, I considered Mrs. Marsh's house to be one of the most luxurious possible. I had no idea of the wealth that could be found elsewhere in the country, in its most "civilized" parts.

Upstairs we went to the balcony. Heavily armed men guarded the premises. In the center, five men in tailcoats were drinking and smoking. Not a single woman to keep them company. A man spoke. Angelo Bronte.

"The angry cow-boys have arrived, and you washed! You even found a lady to accompany you!

\- Yes, let me present you Miss Grey, she's actually Italian too.

\- Really?"

He deigned to take a quick look at me before adding something in Italian to his friends. He quickly turned his attention back to the party. Cigars were offered to Dutch and Arthur, while one of the Italians hastened to sit me down and pour me a glass of champagne. I was listening to their discussion. Leaning on the railing, they turned their backs to me, looking at the tumult of the party in the gardens.

I had plenty of time to watch this Signor Bronte. He was probably a little older than Dutch. There was something indefinable about his face. Neither beautiful nor ugly, it was nonetheless fascinating. If he was charismatic like Dutch, he exuded something unhealthy. More terrifying.

My presence was completely forgotten. He spoke without filter, as if they were in one of these gentlemen's clubs. He mocked and insulted everyone in the assembly. The mayor, the confederate with the too young wife, the Indians. I was relieved that Charles did not have to hear these horrors. Finally, the man talked about a journalist, asking Dutch to "do him a favor" and kill him for him. Obviously, Dutch refused. We were not murderers. Not in cold blood a least. Bronte did not understand our reasoning but seemed to accept it.

"Well it has been wonderful talking with you but I can tell you are very busy and I won't waste anymore of your time.  
\- Yes, Yes you go and enjoy yourself, mingle with this vulgar scum. It'll make you long for the days when you shoot each other and screw cows out on the open range.  
\- Those sure were the days. Good day gentlemen  
\- But maybe the lady should stay here. Such business is not a place for a young lady. Don't worry, I'll treat her well."

Arthur seemed to hesitate but the look that Dutch cast on us was final. I had to stay there. My friend gave me one last glance before walking away with our leader. I was alone. Taking another glass of wine, Bronte came to sit near me.

"Pardon my language, Signorina. I'm used to the presence of men and the ways of Americans. But that's no way to speaknear a young lady.

\- Please, I've heard worse.

\- Miss Grey, right? It doesn't sound very Italian.

\- My mother's father came from Italy and married an American woman before leaving New York for the West. The poor man believed he could make fortune. But alas, all I know about your beautiful country are a few songs and stories told by my mother.

-What a shame that your blood is so diluted. But you have kept the Mediterranean type somewhat with your black hair and eyes. For an American woman, I must admit that you are not that bad. But I must ask you, do you know this man, or did he hire the charms of the first pseudo-Italian who came up to try to coax me?

\- No one can buy my charms, Mr. Bronte. This man gave me a hand when I needed it, it's normal for me to accompany him when he asks me to."

The man looked at me, trying to see if I was telling the truth, before taking a whiff of his cigar. I took a sip of champagne to restore my capacity.

"Your grandfather was stupid. Why not stay in New York, marry a good Italian girl. You'd be living among your peers,instead of fraying with these hillbillies. What a waste for you.

\- Unfortunately, some fates are inevitable. Isn't it what Verdi teaches us in La Traviata?"

I ignored his insults to my family to try to interest him. I hit the nail on the head with my allusion to the opera. The cigar he was about to bring to his lips remained blank, as he looked at me, intrigued that I could know these words.

"It looks like not everything has been lost if you know La Traviata. What is your favorite part?

\- When she dies. Nothing could have saved her. Neither money, nor glory, nor love."

He nodded, turning his attention to the party, before moving closer to me. I straightened slightly, trying to regain my composure in front of this sudden proximity.

"So, you understand Verdi. You should come to my house one day, I will make you listen to it in complete privacy."

At these words, he put his hand on my knee. I tensed imperceptibly, using all my strength to remain impassive and not pushing him away. The idea of being alone with this powerful man terrorized me. He probably didn't often hear the word "no". Eyes on the garden, I saw Dutch looking towards me, probably watching the progress of my evening. Trying to stay strong for my companions, I smile modestly at our host, playing the innocent.

"I would love to hear thebeauty of this opera, but you must know that I'm not free of my time.

\- If he can't buy your charms, he shouldn't sell them either. Even with your impure blood, you remain Italian. You worth much more thanthis cowboy. Don't let him direct your life."

Before I could answer, a deafening noise made me jump. Colors exploded in the sky in thousands of sparks. I've never seen anything like it. What devil was hiding in this subterfuge? The Italian laughed at my surprise in his native language. " _Zoticona_ "

"Fireworks Signorina. Have you never seen them? They're very common around here."

I couldn't take my eyes off the show. Bronte lost all interest in me, getting up to chat with the other Italians on the balcony. I wanted to go down and join the party, to disappear in the crowd and move away from this man with undeniable and indisputable power. The champagne was starting to make my head spin and I was afraid of losing control of the situation. The revolver hanging from my calf would not be of much help to me against his heavily armed guards. Above all, it would go against all Dutch plans. I was wondering how far he wanted me to go tonight.

Looking at the crowd, I met Hosea's eyes, who gestured to me. Bronte noticed it. Grabbing my hand to kiss it, he went up my arm, looking at me intently.

"Your friends know where you can find me, Signorina.

\- Thank you for this evening Signor Bronte. I will think about your advice. Now I'm going to leave you between men."

After a last bow, I retired as quickly as politeness allowed. With great difficulty, I headed for the stairs. I felt weak, exhausted and the champagne had turned my stomach. Or was it the situation? As I was about to go down, a door opened sharply near me, making me jump.

"Shit Arthur you scared me.

\- Let's go down to Dutch. Did he treat you well?

\- As well as a man his kind can.

\- Good.

\- Don't believe I don't know what's going here. I'm not a prostitute Arthur."

He stopped for a moment on the doorstep, looking at me intently. But he couldn't answer, Dutch asking us to get closer. Very quickly, the others joined us. We then left the party. This time Arthur sat between Dutch and me in the carriage. I didn't know if it was voluntary, but I was grateful for it. Bill started to grumble.

"I've never felt so awkward in all my life. All them folk, so please with themselves. It's more like torture."

I hissed loudly at this remark. Everyone looked at me, waiting for an explanation.

"Try to be the prey of a man like Bronte and we'll talk.

\- Come on Miss Grey, aren't you happy that a man like him appreciates your beauty?

\- Not really Dutch."

I turned my attention to the landscape, making them understand that for me, the conversation was closed. The marshes succeeded the industrial decor. Sadness, anger, disgust... Iwent through all emotions. As soon as the carriage stopped, I left with nervousness.

Charles approached and asked me how it had happened, but I did not answer him, quickly heading inside the house to find someone to help me undo this damn dress. Once unlaced, I tossed it on the ground and went to lie down without answering to the girls' questions.

I just wanted to close my eyes and forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My question here is : is Angelo Bronte gay? I feel it could make sense, but it would destroy this chapter. Or does it? He's kinda crazy, so he could play with Anna even if he's gay, just to mess up with the gang? Let me know what you think about it.
> 
> Special thanks to @Fedeipox who helped me with the word Zoticona and generally for listening to me rambling about my story. Go check her stories, she's a good writer!


	15. Rainy Day

"Don't pretend to be a nun Miss Grey, nobody will believe it. The role of the startled virgin does not suit you at all."

The rain was pouring down the day after this dreadful party. I was arguing with Dutch on the porch. Hosea, slightly behind, attended the scene. I was in a terrible rage. I couldn't believe that our leader, usually so considerate and humanist, could behave this way.

"A man who has managed to navigate to control an entire city will never fall into such a crude trick. I can't even believe you're considering it. It will never work.

\- The prouder men are, the more they give in. I trust your talents.

\- I'm not sure what talents you're talking about, Dutch.

\- You tease the men of the camp all the time, with your dances and your stories. It should come as no surprise that I'mlooking at takingadvantage of this. I saved your sister, I took you in. I think I can ask for a proof of yourengagement in return.

\- I think I've already given this proof. By helping Arthur to Valentine, by feeding the gang, by attacking the plantation... And by nicely behaving with this man last night. There are many things I can do to prove my loyalty. But lying down with him is out of the question.

\- You could get a lot out of it though. And don't think I haven't heard all the rumors about you in your hometown. Your fellow citizens had a lot to say about you. You weren't working at the saloon, but it was just like.

\- That's enough Dutch. We have several leads, let's explore them first before asking her such things."

Hosea had intervened, trying to calm things down. But it was too late, I had heard too much. Disgusted by his words, I walked away quickly in the pouring rain. Without the slightest hesitation, I got on my horse. I think Hosea and Dutch kept discussing what was expected of me. I only heard the leader scream as I galloped away.

"Charles, follow her. I don't want her to disappear into the wild."

I was already out of the camp, but it did not take him long to find me. I knew he didn't understand the situation, but he remained silent. We set off for wilder lands, miles north of the marshes. Miles away from this man. Charles had his bow on him, so we could pretend it was a simple hunting party. Just a little quieter and tensed than usual.

\---

Night was soon to fall, and we were totally drenched. We found shelter in a natural cavity in the rock, big enough to stand. Obviously, we were unable to find wood that was dry enough to make a fire. I was too tired and angry to worry about the basic comfort of this place. At least we were protected from the rain. 

After long minutes of silence, I took a deep breath to give myself courage. He had the right to know why he had been running all day under the waterspouts.

"You've heard of this Italian, Bronte. Dutch introduced me to him last night. I spent all my time with him in his private box. He invited me to his home, for " _listening to opera_." Dutch thinks it's a great idea, that he will give me valuable gifts or information. But I don'tbelieve it one second. This man is scary. And we know very well what I'm really asked to do with him ..."

Charles remained silent, his gaze planted in the surrounding vegetation, now almost plunged into darkness.

"If Dutch is asking you ... Then he must believe that it is not dangerous." He said unconvincingly. I took a moment before answering.

"What would you do if he asked you to do something because of your skin color? "

He said nothing. What was there to say? He finally got up to search the bags of his horse, taking out two cans. Coming back to me, he handed me one.

"I'm not hungry.

\- Come on, you have to eat something. When was the last time you did?"

Probably at lunch the day before. Then the girls tightened me in this corset and nothing was served to me at the party. I couldn't have swallowed anything anyway. Reluctantly, I grabbed the can he held out to me and took a bite. I chewed this indescribable food for a long time. I could hardly swallow as my throat was so tight. Delicately resting the box near me, I turned to my companion.

"Charles... Am I a teaser?

\- I ... I think you're so used to see yourself as a boy that you don't realize that men see you as a woman." He replied after a few moments of reflection. "But does that make you a teaser? I don't think so.

\- It's unfair. As a man, you can go into a saloon, do whatever you want with whoever you want. Meanwhile, I must pretend, what, that I am a saint? That I don't feel anything? And I'm not even a pretty girl, I don't dare imagine if that was the case. But we are all humans, we all have needs. I shouldn't have to apologize for that.

\- Why are you pushing away the men of the camp then?

\- You mean Micah? And Javier, once, when he was drunk.

\- I am sure that even sober he would be ready for it."

I laughed softly.

"My rule is not to be too intimate with people I meet all the time. And...

\- And?

\- I like hunting. It would be too simple."

He looked surprised for a moment, before chuckling. We laughed together for a few moments, allowing me to release some pressure.

"We should try to get some sleep."

I slipped my sleeping bag, also soaked, under my head, trying to create a semblance of comfort. Without a word, Charles came to lie down next to me, his back against mine. Everything was good to take to counter the cold and humidity.

"I don't feel safe.

\- You want me to go away?

\- No, I mean, there, with the gang. What Dutch is asking... It's a lot.

\- Stop worrying. Arthur is on your side, he won't let it happen. Same for Hosea. You'll see, we'll find a solution. Try to sleep now."

Unconvinced, I closed my eyes anyway, trying to calm my anxieties. The humidity gnawed at my bones. I shivered, but ended up falling into a dreamless sleep. Waking up in the night, I discovered that Charles had managed to start a fire. I smiled seeing these comforting flames before going back to sleep. 

I was no longer alone.


	16. Pawn and tokens

I looked out of the corner of my eye in the mirror in the room, while the woman was busy behind me. Once again, I found myself in this dress. I must admit that it was beautiful, with its delicate lace details. I let out a hiccup. She had tightened the straps of the bustier even more tightly than Tilly had done a few days earlier.

Outside, the streets of Saint-Denis were busy. Horse-drawn carriages, street children and onlookers mixed in a joyful tumult. The drivers of tramways, these little city trains, made themselves known from the distracted walkers by ringing their bell. The woman made me sit down to do my hairstyle. She worked quickly, but without the dexterity of Mary-Beth. That would do the trick. She retired from the room without a word.

I sat there, staring blankly, wondering if I could spend an entire evening in this cramped corset. My head was already spinning, as if the blood were no longer rising properly. But it wasn't for my brainthat I had been broughtto town. It didn't matter. Thosewere my thoughts when someone knocked on the door.

Overpriced costume, impeccable shaving. The man was of incomparable elegance. Our eyes met and I smiled at him. Difficult to recognize the Arthur I knew in this outfit.

"Well Arthur, you should spend more time with Trelawny, you're superb.

\- Have you seen yourself? You look like a real lady.

\- Maybe we should try our luck in high society." I offered, making him laugh.

"Let's try not to get caught this evening to begin with. Do you know your role?

\- Yes, sir.

\- All right, I'll see you on the boat then."

One last knowing smile and he slipped away. I left the room moments later, joining Strauss, seated in a corner of the saloon. He served me a drink which I swallowed quickly, then we headed outside where a carriage awaited us. I watched the streets go by as we approached the harbor.

Not a word was exchanged. Strauss was not a bad guy, but I had nothing special to say to him. He was part of the band while remaining a little on the sidelines. He was rarely seen participating in fireside discussions, and his main activity was to keep accounts and lend money to poor desperate souls who never found a way to pay him back.

A stone's throw from the port, the Austrian returned to his role of an uncle chaperoning his wealthy heiress of a niece who wanted to discover the poker scene of the city. Dutch had calmed down somewhat since our argument. Or at least we each did our best to meet as little as possible. The only time he spoke to me, or even deigned to look at me, was to enlist me for this boat ride. He had paid for this dress, it had to be used for something.

"My dear Elisabeth, you know what I think of this evening. Even if the best company in town is there, I don't think it is a place for a young woman from a good family. Surely your father would not have allowed this.

\- Dear Uncle, Dad loved me more than anything and wanted only my happiness. You are with me, what could happen to me? And as you said, the best company will be there. Maybe this will be an opportunity to meet a young son from a good family.

\- The sons of good families do not go to such events to find a wife. But anyway, since you are determined, I will not say anything more. Here we are."

With his usual awkwardness, he helped me down, then held my arm up to the bridge. On the platform, Javier was waiting for Arthur and Trelawny. As he pulled on his cigarette, he gave me a discreet wink that made me smile. We had the opportunity to chat several times around the campfire. He turned out to be a gentle and melancholic man, although capable of the greatest violence. But he was sincerely worried about the gang members, even trying to talk to Karen, who was more and more drowning into alcohol.

Once on board, we made our way to the back of the ship. There, we silently admired the setting sun, as we moved away from the city and its lights. When night fell, it was time for us to step on the stage. He gave me his arm to go down the central staircase, where I did my best not to trip over the many layers of fabric of my dress. Arthur was seated at a poker table, Javier had dressed up in a guard uniform and, in the back, Trelawny was immersed in reading a newspaper.

"My dear uncle, I'm going to get a drink at the bar.

\- Very well my child, I will remain to observe this part."

Everything was falling into place. Now sitting opposite Arthur, he would be able to help him win his game. As for me, I only had to divert the attention of employees and players with my tricks and my stories of rich heiress. And to be ready. I was the only one with a gun, because of course who would think of searching a well-dressed young lady?

Now by the bar, I called out to the waiter. My inspiration for tonight was Penelope Braithwaite, minus her intelligence. I wanted to play the young girl full of life and innocent, somewhat mischievous. Like a child who has not quite grow up.

"Good evening, I would like a drink please. A cognac. But please be discreet, my old uncle is with me and he is rather old fashioned, he would not appreciate seeing me drink alcohol.

\- Immediately Miss.

\- I was dying to see a real game of poker. Daddy loved to play, oh, like a gentleman of course. I had no brothers, so he tried to teach me. But poor Daddy, I never managed to become a good player. Now that he's gone, I wanted to see what a real game looked like. And maybe playing, after all, he left me plenty to sit at one of these tables. But these gentlemen seem very experienced, so I think I'll just watch for tonight."

Glancing at Trelawny at the other end of the counter, I saw him discreetly smiling at my performance. He was the one who explained my role to me, and at the same time passed on to me some "tricks" of the trade. The waiter served me my glass, nodding at each of my remarks. He must have been used to hearing the babbling of the passengers.

To my amazement, I was far from being the only woman on this boat. I expected to fall into a man's landmark, where only the elegant, the mistresses and the professional lovers had their place. But there were women of all ages and conditions tonight. Oh sure, some of them were not to be "officials", but others were actually wives accompanying their husbands. Many drank and smoked delicately, like respectable women did.

I had a great view of the room. Arthur soon won his game as planned. He was then escorted upstairs by the game master and the "new guard", Javier. Everything was going to be played out now. Above all, we had to keep calm. The unfortunate loser approached the bar, fuming. Strauss followed him, placing himself on my right. The rich man grumbled, furious he had lost, and suspicious of this unknown newcomer who had won the bet. He started picking on Trelawny, asking accusing questions. I then tried to divert his attention.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Blythe? I apologize for bothering you, but when I was told you were here this evening, I felt great joy! I probably shouldn't say it in front of my uncle, but I'm passionate about your products. They are really the best you can find, they make me and all my friends happy. Oh, I would love you to meet them, they are all crazy about you. I mean, of your products, of course."

Neither flattery, nor my giggles or my eyelash flutter worked to calm him down. He was far too obsessed with losing his watch to be interested in a young wrench who spoke far too much. I then turned to Strauss.

"I think you were right Uncle, this is not a place for me. Especially if men who were friends a few moments ago tear apart after a loss. I'm going to listen to the pianist while waiting for our return to the mainland.

\- Do so my child."

I sat down near the stage, pretending to listen to the musician with passion. In reality, I focused on the different sounds of the boat, anticipating the slightest slip. From time to time, I scanned the room while trying to keep my naive - not to say silly - look on my face.

Arthur went down the stairs, accompanied by Javier. The master of the game was no longer with them. We exchanged a discreet look as he made his way to the bar, where the conversation was getting more and more heated.

Suddenly, the guard Javier had stripped of his uniform appeared in the room, pointing to our friend. Without hesitation, he shot the other guard before throwing his gun at Arthur. Aftershocks arose quickly. I grabbed my revolver and shot at our attackers. Soon, I ran out of ammunition. It didn't matter, it wastime to flee. Ifollowed Trelawny and Strauss who were running to the rail.

"We need to jump into water!

\- Jump? I'm in a fucking dress, I'm going to drown!

\- That's the only way!"

The two men jumped while I tried to get rid of my skirt to lighten it up a bit. Why didn't I take my hunting knife? I pulled with all my might on the fabric to tear it apart, as the gunfire approached. Javier arrived and immediately understood my problem. Feverishly, he took out his knife to finish freeing me, before grabbing my arm to make me jump with him in the black waters of the bay of Saint-Denis.

The water shock was brutal. Arthur had jumped after us and we were now swimming with all our might towards the shore, balls whistling around us. Even off a part of my dress, it really was not the ideal outfit for this kind of activity. On the one hand, the petticoat weighed and prevented me from having agile movements. On the other hand, the corset compressed my lungs, making my breathing difficult.

« Arthur, I won't make it.

\- We're almost there, come on. »

The shore was indeed not very far away, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't catch my breath anymore, it felt like my head was going to explode. I swallowed water several times. Arthur swam quickly towards me and helped me keep my head above water, carrying me on the last few feet that separated us from the mainland.

We collapsed on the black sand. Staggering, Javier came closer to us. Out of breath, I motioned for him to help me out of my shackles. With a sharp blow, he cut the fabric and the laces covering my back.

And finally, I could breathe. Panting, I said:

« I'm going to kill this crazy hostel girl. Arthur, I think we're going to drop this high society thing. I will never wear a corset in my life again.

\- You will quickly comfort yourself, that's your part. Dare to tell me that you didn't have fun tonight. »

He handed me a wad of bills before covering me with his suit jacket. I was too proud to admit it. But I actually had a lot of fun participating in this robbery. I was beginning to understand why they lived this way. It wasn't for the money. Nor to get a better life on the other side of the earth. Nor for a philosophical ideal. No, it was for adrenaline.

And I too was taking a liking to this sweet drug that killed more than one before us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dress part was complicated to solve. I wanted it to be credible, so I looked a bit of how the dresses were constructed in the late 90's. It looks like it was not unusual to have 2 parts dress, with a top and a bottom, even though it looked like it was more for day dresses than evening dresses, but I decided to go with it anyway.
> 
> The wife part is also true to the story. Replaying the mission, I found that there were a lot of women on the boat, I talked to them to see if they were working girls but they really didn't look like it, there were "old" ladies too, so I decided to go with it.


	17. For a quarter dollar

A Quarter Dollar.

Sitting on the porch of the house, I was absorbed in my reading when a quarter dollar landed on my book. Surprised, I looked up to see where it came from. In front of me, Micah looked sly. I handled the coin, frowning. It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was getting at.

"What, I heard it's your new job.

\- Do you really think a quarter would be enough? Even Valentine's syphilitics girls took more.

\- You seem to know a lot about it. Good, I like girls who know what they're doing...

\- Fuck off Micah"

Leaving my book, I got up, heading for a cabin on the river at the back of Shady Belle. I spent my frustration throwing stones at the green waters, chasing mosquitoes in vain. I was furious. Not so much because of Micah, I was used to his behavior. Looking back, I think it was just a desperate way to get attention.

No, the reason for my anger was Dutch. He who had been so considerate, so inspiring, he had now credited me with this reputation. It was clear that I was just a toy for him. I was just good to be a bargaining chip, sold to the most offering. Why should I keep following someone that treats me like that? It was supposed to be a place of freedom. But here, as anywhere else, my voice didn't matter. My body wasn't mine. I was to obey blindly to this man that now repelled me.

As I was reflecting on my future in the gang, Arthur arrived to check on me.

"You ok?

\- Micah got into my head. Urg, I wish I had a reason to leave the camp. But Charles left to help his Indian friends, and I don't like to go hunting that far alone.

\- Well, I'm going to town, I was going to ask you to come along"

I hesitated for a moment. The city brought me too close to Bronte. But I desperately needed a change of environment. Everyday tasks seemed a little too repetitive and boring since we hit the boat. And our nice catch had soothed Dutch: he no longer spoke about the Italian and no longer gave me the cold silence treatment. Coming back, I thought he was going to blame me for the disappearance of the dress, as if I had done it on purpose, but he said nothing, just admiring the stack of cash we brought him.

Arthur and I set off for Saint-Denis, chatting about everything and nothing. After a silence, I dared to question him about Mary, his youth love with whom he seemed to have reconnected. He sighed and didn't answer me immediately.

"What do you know?

\- Only the few things the girls told me. That you were young and very in love. Her family didn't approve of you. And that she ended up listening to them. And married another man.

\- It's about that."

Silence was heard again as the factory chimneys guarding the entrance to the city drew closer.

"She wrote me when we were in Valentine. She needed help with her brother. She rented a room in the north of the city, at a woman's farm.

-Chadwick Farm? Oh, I think I crossed paths with her then. Beautiful woman. She looked sweet.

-She is. She wrote to me again recently, we saw each other in Saint-Denis. We... We relived our youth for a few hours.

-Great. It's a good sign, maybe it wasn't your time back then but today it is."

An unconvinced sound came out of his mouth. I used to laugh at Mary-Beth's books, but I would have given everything I could to make this story end as in one of her novels. I sincerely appreciated Arthur and wanted him to be happy.

"You know. This life. The one that you freely joined. I have to tell you before you get too entangled, but it may already be too late. You don't leave it easily. Even with all the goodwill, support, whatever you want.Once you've experienced it, it's like it's forever etched in our veins. Like a curse. "

I looked at him with a serious look. It was true that I loved this new life. I absolutely couldn't see myself returning to a peaceful existence. But what about in 10, 20, 30 years from now? Would I still be able to run from town to town, having nothing but my guns by my side?

I didn't have the opportunity to give it any more thought, we had arrived near the Saint-Denis market. He was to meet a priest there, a request from Swanson. You really had to expect everything with this gang.

Before we could introduce ourselves, the priest appealed to Arthur's generosity. He said he saw great kindness in him, drawing each of us sly smiles., but which of us hasn't?

\- You have no idea

\- But you do, and God knows, and that's enough for me and for him."

My friend gave some coins for the poors before talking to the monk. He came to mention Dutch and one of his great theories about America, getting approval from the man of faith.

"He must be a wise man, your mentor"

I couldn't suppress an ironic chuckle. Arthur looked at me while answering him.

"Well sometimes he's a downright fool but... Usually, he's the best man I know."

The man then began to talk about slavery, to be held in the city. He asked us to go see the local loan shark, whom he suspected of these atrocities. Without hesitation, we accepted. We crossed the market towards the green door as indicated by the monk.

"I meant it you know. Dutch. What he asked you was wrong. Even he must have realized. But he's just trying to do the best for all of us. Whatever happens, I'll be by your side."

I merely nodded, opening the way to the merchant. First, he took us for buyers. But Arthur wasted no time and began questioning him head on. The man denied his accusations, causing my friend to lose his patience. Meanwhile, I was examining the store.

"Arthur, look at these traces in front of the shelf.

\- They ... They forced me to do it. I treated them well. But I had to.

\- I'll take a closer look, watch him. If he moves an inch, shoot."

With great pleasure, I held the man at stake. Arthur began to move the library, discovering a secret staircase. From a distance, I heard speaking in Spanish. A few minutes later, two men emerged from this dreadful hiding place. As they headed toward their freedom, I brought my revolver closer to the face of the keeper.

"If you do it again, I'll come here, cut your balls, and make you eat them, okay? And believe me, I will know if you do. "

He nodded, completely shaken by fear. I patted him on the face before following the three men, already gone in the direction of the monk. After some exchanges of banalities, we returned to our horses.

"It's not bad to use our weapons to do good sometimes.

-You see, you haven't known that yet, but Dutch ... That's what he believes in. We have helped people in the past. But you came after a bad patch, and I think he's anxious to get all of us out. The world is changing.But everything will be fine, you'll see. ."

I said nothing, nodding half-convinced. A revelation struck me as I climbed into the saddle.

"Arthur, we're fools. We should have taken his cash register!

\- You'll soon be a better outlaw than I am!"

We laughed heartily at this idea. Without my noticing, we had already arrived in the beautiful districts of the city.

"Anna, you're not going to like this, but we have to go to the tailor.

\- Why?

\- I'm meeting with Dutch andLenny later. We're going to deal with this story of the tram station, you know, the one Bronte told us about at the mayors. And we think it would be nice if you went to his place. To give him his commission, you know.

-We? You mean Dutch... The commission will be in nature, I guess? That good old Dutch is not going to lose money while I'm around. And to say I started to believe in all that crap you said.

-You can believe it. It will just be a money deposit. See it as a gift on which we put a nice bow.

-Arthur, you promised me.

-I will come with you, don't worry. I won't leave you for a moment. And then, what harm can it be to buy a new dress?"

I said nothing. I felt my stomach on the edge of my lips. At each step, I had to make a considerable effort not to cry, howl or vomit. At the tailor's, I remained sluggish, letting Arthur choose for me which daytime outfit was best. What a funny scene looking back on today, 50 years later.

The employee led me to a dressing room and began to dress me, like a doll. Once the clothe was put on, I looked at myself in the mirror. I could not hold back a tear. The girl noticed it. She tried to soothe me, to tell me that I was very pretty and that I should not worry. She started styling my hair so that it all went together. _She's so stupid_ , I thought. But in the end, she was just kind and naive, I couldn't blame one of the few who offered me compassion, without knowing anything about my condition.

\----

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock ...

The saloon clock howled in my ears with its pendulum. Arthur had left me there, stuck in my new dress, before joining Lenny and Dutch for their damn hold up. With a drink in front of me, I had a clear view on the street. On my horse. It would only take a few steps. Just a few steps to reach her.

And leave.

Disappear in the city, run away on the roads or by the first train.

After all, I was alone, it was quite achievable. My most precious belongings remained in the camp. But did those items worth my skin? My integrity? At that moment, I no longer gave them the slightest importance. All that mattered to me was to avoid this Italian monster.

But Arthur was counting on me. I was still trusting him. As he trusted me, otherwise he would never have left me alone unattended.

But Dutch always wanted more.

I was at a crossroads.

Taking a deep breath, I took charge of my destiny.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For writing that chapter, I watch again the cutscene with Mary Linton. Their first encounter in Valentine broke my heart. There is so much history and love between them. I wonder if she has ever been happy with her husband, or with the rest of her life after 1899. I really think this Valentine discussion is one of the best scenes that Roger Clark did, I find him really accurate.
> 
> Concerning the « Indian » term. I will use it again later, so I want to warn you right away. I make the decision to use it, instead of the Native American term. The dialogues are in 1899, the narration is in 1963, I think it's more accurate she uses this term.


	18. The gang of the lost lovers

A scream tore the air.

Shots followed immediately.

Around me, the bullets whistled continuously.

Chaos.

**\-------**

**A few hours earlier**

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock.

Leaving my glass half empty, I got up. You could hear gunshots echoing in the distance. As I approached the window to try to spot something, a woman burst into the saloon, trembling with all her limbs.

"Bandits attacked the train station!"

 _Arthur_.

I returned to sit calmly in my place, resuming the course of my drink. I had to keep a cool head and not appear suspicious. I waited several minutes, which seemed like hours, for the shots to go away. I paid the waiter before going to my horse. The police crisscrossed the streets, looking for bandits. Fortunately, my dress made me invisible to their eyes, allowing me to reach the suburbs without incident.

On the outskirts of the city, two paths were open to me. I could still change the course of my destiny.

_Going North and running away._

_Going West and looking for my friends._

Loyalty. This is a point on which Dutch and I agreed. Sighing, I made my horse turn to the West, taking care not to be followed.

Arriving at the camp, I saw Lenny in the distance in great conversation with Javier and John. I walked inside the house. Around the living room table, Susan was busy caring for Dutch, under Hosea's concerned look. He had been badly hit on the head and needed treatment. I approached him, my face devoid of emotion. He looked up at me and gave me a look I didn't know him. A terribly human look, a mixture of fatigue, regret, and sincerity. Many men would have qualified this look of weakness. But for me, it showed the extent of his character. Fascinating.

"Well Miss Grey, are you here to admire my misfortune?

\- I have absolutely nothing to celebrate, Dutch. I told you. I am loyal. The gang's wounds are mine."

He said nothing but patted my hand gently. Miss Grimshaw had finished her work and chased me away before helping our leader to get up.

"Go on, leave him now, he needs to rest."

I went out to meet Arthur. He told me everything. The empty safe. The police. The mad rush through the city. Bronte had set them up. He would not be happy with the survival of my three companions, who had managed to escape despite his countless watchdogs.

"We need money, fast, and leave far from this place."

I nodded as he walked away. A flurry made me shiver. If the weather were generally hot and humid, the storms could be terrible at Shady Belle. Drops started to fall and the storm threatened in the distance, making the horses upset.

As everyone started to shelter the basics, I walked over to our mounts to try to appease them. Of course, nothing could reassure them. I then began to put away what could be and made sure that none of them can get hurt in a fright access.

I frowned. Kieran should have been there with me for this task. He loved horses and never failed to take care of them. I realized I hadn't seen him since my return.

My task accomplished, I returned to the house, soaked. We were in the middle of the storm now. On the porch, Charles, back from his expedition, was cutting a piece of wood, raising his head from time to time to admire the lightnings that streaked the sky. I stood for a moment beside him in silence, as I looked at this tremendous spectacle of nature. Then I gave him a nod before going inside.

I changed into my usual cowboy outfit, then put my dress on to dry before addressing the girls.

"When it is dry, you can do whatever you want with it. I won't need it anymore."

They nodded but quickly returned to their discussion. Mary-Beth was also concerned about the absence of Kieran. These two have been getting closer lately, although I doubt there ever was anything between them. I had no energy to talk and went to lie down. From my bed, I admired the lightning before falling asleep.

\----

"Women and children inside!"

I didn't respond to this order from Dutch. The few times they made me wear a dress hadn't been enough to change my way of seeing myself. I didn't feel concerned. Behind the barricades, I would reply blow for blow with my rifle.

The O'Driscoll carried out the assault while we were busy with our daily tasks, leaving us only a few moments to realize that it was Kieran's body that had arrived mutilated on his horse.

The assailants attacked us from all sides. We may have eliminated them one after the other, others arose to replace them. Overwhelmed by a full cart and numerous riders, we had to retreat inside. I walked to one of the windows as the men barricaded the doors.

John joined me. From the back windows, Arthur asked us if everyone was okay, but we had no idea. In this chaos, it was difficult to watch over each other. Many had taken refuge upstairs, but what state were they in?

Suddenly, screams came from outside. Rowdy and mad, like those of an injured animal. Sadie was still there, fighting like crazy. Maybe I would have turned like her if the gang hadn't intervened in time to save my family from the O'Driscoll.

Shot after shot, we managed to overcome our enemies. When the attack was over, I stayed in the house, waiting for Swanson to take care of poor Kieran's body. I had only seen him from afar, but I clearly saw that his head had been detached from his body.

What an end for this poor boy. I never really talked to him, but he was not a bad guy. Naturally, Mary-Beth was upset. In addition to having a sweet spot for him, she had been on the front line to face this horrible vision.

But we did not have time to let go of our emotions. Dutch and Susan set us to work immediately. There were many bodies to clear to restore a semblance of normalcy to our camp. Fortunately, the crocodiles around were there to help us with this thankless task.

\---

We had to wait until evening so that we could assimilate the events of the past two days. If Kieran was not the most integrated of the gang, an aura of sadness encompassed the camp. I found myself sitting at the table near the kitchen car, next to Karen, Susan, and Mary-Beth. We were telling stories, we tried to sing a few songs, but the heart was not there. A sad bond united us now.

We were the gang of the lostlovers.


	19. Even the mighty must fall

The camp was very quiet this late afternoon. Dutch had embarked Arthur and the others on a punitive expedition against Angelo Bronte. And as every time our companions left for such missions, the rest of the camp plunged into a special atmosphere, as if we all held our breath, praying that everything would go without a hitch.

I joined Hosea, sitting in the shade of the gazebo. He put down his book, smiling at me. But he didn't fool me, I could tell he was upset. Since I joined the band, we have had a lot of discussions together. He always gave me good advice, and I absolutely trusted him. He was also dotted with incomparable mischievousness for a man his age. This is probably what allowed him to continue living this life despite the years and the setbacks. I asked him about the cause of his mood. 

"It's nothing. Nothing that youshould worry about anyway. I think Dutch shouldn't have led this expedition against Bronte. Revenge is always a waste of time, and dangerous. Remember this all your life. It does you no good, not even appeasement of your heart.

\- Why does he do it then?

\- He is convinced that Bronte is on our way, and that if he is there, we will not be able to carry out our plan. But the plan is good, we just have to apply it well. Attack the bank, collect the money, and go away. Revenge will bring nothing. But you understand, after all you didn't go with them.

\- Arthur banned me before I even asked. But I think it's better that way. I don't need to see another bloodbath.

\- You are right.

\- What's the plan then?"

He started to explain it to me. He and Abigail would make a diversion, a very big diversion, to attract all the police and give the others time to empty the safes. The bank of a large industrial city like Saint-Denis, how many treasures and banknotes could it hold? Much more than we could imagine. Much more than we could spend.

But we needed money for the trip. We were going to leave for Tahiti, or some other paradise island on the other side of the earth. I had heard of it sometimes, without being able to imagine life there. How could I, I who had only known Valentine and its meadows. But for the first time, thanks to Hosea's descriptions, I was trying to create an image of this near future.

The sea, the real one. Not one of those huge lakes or the murky waters of Saint-Denis. No, a sea of a blue so pure that it feels like paradise. Sand, this very clear soil that does not turn into mud when it rains. Good weather all year round. Exotic fruits, yellow like the sun. Eden found.

Though I was wondering. Wouldn't the band, constantly in search of adventures, be bored on these islands, no matter how heavenly they were? What would we do there to see the days go by?

But in the end, nothing is final in life, and plans are made to be changed.

\-----

"You did well to stay. It was a real slaughter."

I handed a beer to Arthur, who seemed concerned since he returned to camp. I questioned him with a look.

"You don't need to worry anymore. Bronte will never be a problem again. The crocodiles took care of him."

I sighed lightly. Of course, wishing the death of a man were wrong. But at least I was sure that I would not be asked to act as a second diversion during the bank robbery, occupying the man who ruled the city.

"Hosea explained the plan to me.

\- One last blow. One last blow and we are going away from these swamps and all this civilization."

\-----

Everyone was busy this morning, putting on their Sunday clothes like honest citizens. Except those don't rob banks, unlike my companions. I helped Charles who didn't do well with his bow tie. He pulled on the collar of his shirt.

"It's not really comfortable.

\- Try wearing a corset and we'll talk about it!

\- Not too disappointed not to come with us?

\- Not the slightest! The farther I stay from that city the better I am. Maybe I'm going to go hunting in the meantime, we're running out of meat.

\- No, wait until I come back, we'll go together. I don't like the idea of you going alone.

\- Yes Sir, anything else Sir?" I said, rolling my eyes, causing my friend to laugh lightly. I replied with a smile, motioning him to join his horse and the rest of the gang.

Six weeks. Six weeks and our life would be totally different. But it would in no way stick to the vision described by Hosea.


	20. Abyss

A fear gripped my stomach. I had a bad feeling. Shouldn't they have returned already? How long does it take to rob a bank?

The others reassured me. Sometimes they stayed away from the camp for a while to avoid attracting attention. Surely, they were celebrating their success in some dirty saloon. And soon they would return with their arms full of money, our ticket to our new life under brighter skies.

To pass the time and distract myself from my worries, I was doing everyday tasks. When there were no more chores, I told a story to Jack, who was anxiously awaiting his mother's return. Soon we saw her running down Shady Belle's alley. It certainly wasn't normal.

"They got Hosea!" she screamed, panicked and breathless. We all rushed to meet her.

"They got Hosea. I ... I managed to sneak out, but they got him. I ran as fast as I could. But. I don't know what happened to them."

A wave of terror took hold of the troop. What should we do? Abigail hugged Jack. Mary-Beth was crying. Even Susan, usually a steadfast rock, was in shock. I was having trouble realizing, but as my gaze met Sadie's I immediately returned toreality.

We were the last comers, this status gave us a stronger detachment. We knew how to fight, hunt, and keep a cool head. This made us the best placed to manage this crisis. Away from the group, we agreed on the way forward.

\---------

A few hours later, we still had no news of the others. I decided to speak up.

"Listen to me. I think ... I think we should start packing our stuff. We keep only the bare essentials for eating and sleeping. The rest, the others belongings, we all pack it up.

\- And then what? Are we fleeing?" asked Mary-Beth.

"Then we wait. Sadie will go to town for more information. And if they come back, we'll have to leave anyway, we might as well get ahead.

\- You're there for five minutes and you want to lead the group?" It was Karen, already well drunk, who dared to say out loud what the others were probably thinking to themselves.

"Listen. I'm not trying to take anyone's place. It's been a big shock,I just want you to rely on me, and on Sadie.

\- That's enough." Susan got up. It was her first words since Abigail's return. "They are right. In the morning we will start to pack up what we can."

\---

I stayed up for a part of the night, patrolling. I was terrified that we might have been discovered, but that terror was overshadowed by my hope of seeing them return. With each sound, I thought I would see them appear, exhausted but happy to be back. But when day broke, no one had announced themselves.

As I was taking a coffee, Sadie offered me a cigarette. I questioned her.

"What now?

\- We need to find a safe place to settle, at least temporarily. I'm not sure we're safe here ...

-But where?

-When you were going hunting with Charles, you never came across an interesting place?"

I started to think, when Strauss approached us too. He told us about a place the locals feared, over there, in the swamps. This could be a good solution for hiding. We decided to have a look.

From a distance, we watched the surroundings. The place was terrifying. Its occupants, real barbarians. Discreetly, we left. Sadie headed to town to try to get more information. As for me, I went hunting. Alone...

\---

With a single arrow, I had managed to shoot a beautiful doe. This would fill the stomachs of my companions, failing to heal their hearts. It would still be a little comfort. I suddenly realized how far I was from the camp. I had almost arrived in the southern territories from my first days in the band.

I faced another problem. Usually it was Charles who loaded the animals on my horse. I didn't have his strength, this would be a challenge. But for now, I couldn't help my mind from wandering.

Where was he now? Was he even alive? What about the others?

Sorrow rose in me. I decided to rest for a while, trying to drive the negative thoughts out of my mind. Soon they would all come back and make fun of our eagerness to pack. Leaning against a tree, I nibbled on biscuits given by Pearson a few hours earlier.

Taking my courage, I got up and grabbed the beast. After many efforts, I managed to lift it and wedge it... on my saddle. I had no other choice than to walk. It would take a good part of the night to get back to the camp. The night was beautiful, the moon full and bright. I took a deep breath and set off.

\---

The sun was barely rising when I saw the outlines of Shady Belle in the distance, drowned in the mist. As I was getting closer, I heard footsteps, and a figure soon faced me. The first rays of the sun through the curtain of fog prevented me from distinguishing this newcomer. Friend or foe? I cocked my gun and pointed.

"Who's there?

\- It's me, don't shoot.

\- Charles ?!"

Without hesitation, I dropped my gun and rushed toward my friend, hugging him.

"Are the others with you?"

I felt him stiffen. I stepped back to question him. He looked exhausted and aching. My face decomposed as he told his story.

Hosea and Lenny, dead.

John, captured.

The others, embarked for an unknown destination.

I plunged my face in my hands. Seeing Charles again gave me hope, but it was destroyed again.

"We can't stay here.

\- I know, I asked the others to put their things together and we spotted a hiding place with Sadie.

\- She told me about it. I'm going with her." I was going to speak but he didn't give me the time. "You stay there, you've already hunted all night and you look exhausted. And I need a good trigger to protect the camp, just in case. »

I nodded. I didn't have the strength to contradict him, even though I knew that camp morale, weeping and wailing would be more exhausting than facing a thousand devils. Watching him go, I told him:

"I'm glad you're back Charles."

He smiled sadly at me and mounted his horse alongside Sadie.

\----

My eyes closed without my being able to control them, but I didn't want to go inside to help pick up our things. Selfishly, I stayed on the verge of Shady Belle. I didn't have the energy to bear the crying, natural, of Abigail and the others. I only dreamed of one thing: sleep. But that was not on the agenda for a while.

I got up to keep my body from betraying me. I couldn't help but think of Charles and Sadie. I had seen this place, with these skulls as a welcoming committee. It was a dark place. Stifling. Scary. What if they didn't come back? I shivered at the thought.

Susan came to meet me. I thought I would hear reproaches, but she served me only coffee. She had never been mean to me, unlike she was with Tilly and Karen, who she was always yelling at. I never knew why. Maybe because I didn't represent a threat to her. I was not the image of her lost youth and beauty. I thanked her with a pale smile.

"It will be ok Anna. They'll be back soon, and I'm sure Dutch and the others will find a way to come back too.

\- You believe it?

\- I have no choice but to have faith. Dutch never let me down. Oh sure, he ended up preferring another one, younger, newer, you know men. But he has always been there for me, for us.

\- Have you ever experienced a situation like this one?

\- We've all had hard times Anna. Faith is what helps us overcome them."

I said nothing, swallowing a few sips of the warm liquid.

"I'll go back now, we're almost ready."

\---

The sun was high in the sky when I heard hooves. Arming my rifle, I prayed that I wouldn't have to use it. I knew my chances of survival were low. With relief, I recognized Sadie's blonde braid. She was alone. Before I could worry about it, she said:

"He stayed behind to clean up. No need to add morbidity there, there is already enough. It was not pretty."

I thanked her. Together, we headed for the house and helped with the last preparations. Soon we left Shady Belle, more doubtful about the future than we've ever been. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter, so I really hope you enjoyed it too. The 2/3 chapters that come are among my favorites, I can't wait to share them with you.


	21. Fresh Air

Over the next few days, we did our best to settle in this cursed place. Our previous camps looked like palaces compared to this one. Even in broad daylight, the sky seemed dark and threatening.

The atmosphere was like heat, sweltering and electric. I only slept in rare moments and had few activities during the day. The premises required a certain degree of idleness. Time was flowing slowly, and soon I began to comprehend the latest events.

\---

Some time after our arrival, Charles and Abigail left for Saint-Denis. They wanted to give our companions a decent place to rest. It was only when they told me that they had managed to bury them that I realized. They were dead. Real dead. We'd never see them again.

I've always liked Hosea. He seemed to be the wisest of this crazy band, and yet he was one of them. I wish I had more time to get to know him, I'm sure he could have taught me a lot about life. And Lenny. I didn't know him very well, but he was a good boy. He was barely younger than me, he must have had plenty of dreams and hopes. And now he was no longer.

I did my best to take it all on myself and show nothing of my anguish to my companions. I moved away from the group to pass my nerves on the poor beast that was to end up in Pearson's stew. I furiously wiped away the few tears I had not been able to hold back, covering my cheeks with the animal's blood. Other tears flowed, digging furrows through the red lines coloring my face. At this moment, I heard Charles's calm voice.

"Anna. You ok?"

Wiping my tears discreetly, I nodded, probably unconvincingly. He squatted in front of me. I avoided his gaze, trying in vain to hide my crying.

"When did you last sleep? You look exhausted.

\- Have you seen the place? It's impossible to sleep here. And before that, there was all this shit to deal with when you all didn't come back."

He nodded sadly before getting up.

"I'm going to do some scouting up north, you come with me?

\- I... I don't know if I can leave the camp.

\- Come on. There's not much to do here anyway. We'll bring back some food."

I didn't need any more reasons. I washed the blood from my face and hands before I retrieved my belongings and followed him out of this hell.

\-----

Charles didn't tell me right away where we were going. I didn't care. Anything that could get me away from these swamps was good to take. As we went up north, I felt my breathing again. As usual, Charles remained silent for quite a while. Before finally informing me of our destination.

He wanted to hear from his Indian friends whom he had helped a few weeks before. They were experiencing troubles on their reservation, so he wanted to see if he could help them. Listening to him speak, I stopped my horse. Noticing this, he turned around to face me, surprised.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to go.

\- Why not?

\- Because I'm white? Because I'm from Valentine? That these lands where I was raised were theirs and were savagely removed from them?

\- You're not responsible for the past. You don't work for the government. All they need right now is help. And that's what you do best, take care of people, find solutions, work hard. Trust me, it's going to be fine."

Reluctantly, I followed him. I remained worried for the rest of the trip. I was afraid of their reaction, but I think I was mostly afraid to see the consequences of the painful wars that took place before I was born. Knowing the bad that has been done is one thing, experiencing it is another.

After several hours of riding, we arrived in these majestic mountains of Ambarino. The sun shone without burning us, the century-old conifers greeted us with their welcoming shade, and we could observe many birds that were unknown to me. I was breathless in front of the beauty of these landscapes, I could have stayed there for hours.

After a last climb, Charles told me that we were almost there. At the end of the path, through the trees, we could see dwellings. Teepees. It was the first time that I saw them, apart from the illustrations in the picture books that we could find at the time. Before we got too close, I tensed up and asked my friend for advice.

"What... What should I do?

\- They're normal people just like you Anna, act normally."

Once in the reservation, I stayed on my horse, frozen. There were so many of them, and they were all staring at me. Some with curiosity, others with indifference but all made me feel out of step. Charles approached to get me off my horse before enthusiastically shaking a young man's hand. The latter stared at me coldly. Obviously, he didn't approve my presence. An older man came out of his teepee to meet us. Charles introduced him to me as Rains Fall, the Chief of this tribe. The hostile young man was none other than his son, named Eagle Flies.

"This is Anna, a friend. I allowed myself to bring her in. She is a good hunter, she would be happy to help the best she can.

\- Welcome, Miss. As you will quickly understand, the work isn't missing here."

I smiled shyly. The two men filled us in with the situation. They lacked food, medicine and their people were weakening. Throughout these exchanges, I stood somewhat away, almost hidden behind Charles. I looked discreetly at this new unknown environment, carefully avoiding inquisitive glances. It was all very different from my hometown.

\---

I quickly got to work, doing what I was told. Some spoke English, others did not. It didn't matter. We found ways to understand each other. All day I cut wood, helped make objects, played with the children... I drowned my mind with their voice and with effort, to forget the torments in which we found ourselves. As the afternoon progressed, Rains Fall approached us.

"Stay with us tonight. You've been on a long road, you need to rest.

\- Can we?" I said, looking at Charles.

He nodded. We couldn't get home for long hours, and the gang could do without us. We thanked the Chief before we got back to work.

\---

When it was dinnertime, I quietly slipped away. I sat at the end of the camp, on a rock overlooking the valley. I admired the setting sun and breathed in the clean mountain air. I tried in vain to absorb the ambient serenity offered by nature. Soon Charles joined me.

"Come eat Anna"

With a nod, I refused.

"Tell me what's wrong"

I was silent, biting my lip. With hesitation, I finally dared to speak.

"I feel guilty. Guilty of being here and breathing, while the others are dying of fear in these devil's swamps. Guilty of doing nothing to help them. Guilty of being among those people who have experienced so much suffering from those I called my community. Having lived there, I have as much blood on my hands as the others.

\- Come on, don't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Besides, I can't imagine your father or his parents doing anything, considering what you told me about them.

\- Why, because they helped one or two runaway slaves from the South? It's always easier to intervene in the neighbors' affairs and do the right thing when it's not your own business. But the truth is, I don't know anything about this part of my family's life. And even if they didn't participate. They did nothing. They accepted the land and closed their eyes. They remained indifferent. This is not enough. This is no excuse."

He remained silent, merely looking at the horizon. What could he say? This was the cruel truth, and he knew it only too well. He had lost his mother to a community like mine. Lost his family and his origins because of people who thought they were superior enough to decide the fate of those who did not look like them.

The sun had now disappeared. I looked at my companion. His hair was different, entrusted to the men of the reserve. Usually let down, they were now tied in a long braid, and all the hair that was not part of it had been shaved.

"I like your hair like that."

He made a sad face, staring at a point below us. He did it for our missing friends. We remained a few moments in silence, then they came for us to eat. Charles leaves me no choice but to follow him. Sitting by the fire, he handed me a bowl. There was no arguing. I didn't notice it before my first bite, but I was hungry. The pace had been erratic for the past few days, and the stress had cut my appetite. But my body appreciated this food. Good food moreover, nothing to do with the horrors that the poor Pearson served us.

"I had forgotten what it was like to eat something else than stew." My remark made Charles laugh softly. Finally, a little lightness.

I watched the people around me. In the end, they weren't much different from us. As in our camps, they met in small groups around the fire. In silence or telling stories, even singing. 

A girl about my age smiled at me. I spoke to her briefly in the afternoon. She had long black hair, and incredible eyes. But it was her smile that was most remarkable. Frank and happy. Sincere. Her parents named her well. Ehawee, _Laughing Maiden_. I smiled back at her before turning my attention back to the discussion between Charles and Eagle Flies.

\-----

Soon it was time to go to bed. A teepee was dedicated to us, after they made sure that we agreed to sleep in the same one. I was offered to stay with other women, but I politely declined. I preferred the familiar presence of my friend to those of strangers, even feminine ones.

Although exhausted and not having had a real night's sleep for quite some time, I couldn't sleep. Turning in all positions, I could not make my anxieties disappear. I was thinking about the desperation of my companions at the camp. About those who were at sea or perhaps arrived on the other side of the world. Perhaps they had forgotten us, meeting beautiful natives serving them good wine.

"Stop worrying Anna. It'll be fine. You need to sleep."

Silence fell back into the teepee. I knew he was right, but it wasn't enough to calm me down. It was impossible for me to sleep. Lying on my back, I observed the structure of this unusual construction for me. The light of the moon played on the stretched fabric.

I listened to all the noises around, holding out to each suspicious sound. The hyper-vigilance of the last few days refused to leave me. I was breathing fast and was on my guard without being able to help myself. Catching me off guard, Charles turned around and put his arm on my waist.

"You're safe here." He mumbled, half asleep.

I contemplated this arm which embraced me before looking up at its owner. His eyes were closed. With a peaceful face, he had dozed off. I smiled. It was really Charles's style not to take advantage of the situation. But maybe that for him too, I was not a sufficient point of interest. I was after all, the ugly sister.

I chased these thoughts out of my head before they deprived me of sleep for good. How important, Charles was my friend. I was certainly not going to give credit to Karen.

I took a deep breath and took advantage of the comfort my friend offered me. One cannot imagine the security that a simple physical contact can provide. The night finally swept me away.

\----

When I woke up, I was alone in the teepee. The sun was already high, so I hurried to get up. There's nothing worse than someone who's smothering. In one corner of the reserve, Charles was busy as usual. He smiled at me when he saw me approaching.

"Slept well?

\- You could have woken me up!

\- You needed to rest. Come and eat something."

The rest of the morning passed quietly, and soon it was time to go back south. We hunt on our way to feed our companions who remained in the swamps.

We went back to the reservation several times during this strange period in our band's life. There I discovered a new side of Charles. He seemed happier, more open. He started to remember long-buried memories of his mother, of his childhood. Times were hard, but at least we found a way to cope.

We also took the opportunity to go in recognition, looking for new places to settle once our friends would come back from their trip. Everyday, we would hope to see them blow in our camp, as if nothing had happened. Then we could go back to new horizons, all together.

But for now, we just had to survive and wait. Every time we were away, I felt guilty about leaving our friends. Sadie reassured me, the band was doing well, and she was there to watch over them. And then we help them by hunting, even if we obviously didn't need to go that far to bring back food. But no one ever says anything about our extended escapades.

As if time no longer made sense.

As if nothing mattered anymore.


	22. A simple service for a friend

"Are you sure it's safe?

\- It's pouring and after what we've seen, I need a drink."

Charles who insisted on going to a city as I was reluctant, the world upside down. We had just returned from scouting in the Roanoke Ridge area, where we had the displeasure of coming across the abuses of these savages of Murfree Brood. We saw the horrors committed on their victims, but luckily, we did not meet them.

This is how we entered Annesburg at nightfall. It was a mining town like so many others, with its chimneys spewing the black smoke of coal, its squalid shacks and its exhausted bodies, more ghosts than humans. We tied our horses to what looked like a German brewery.

The owner denoted with the industrial atmosphere of this place. Doing manners, he looked like he thought he was in a big city. After drinking a beer, we decided to stay for the night, as the rain did not seem to decrease.

"Sir, your room is at the end of this hallway. Ma'am, your room is upstairs."

We could not have been further away. Was he trying to make sure that good moral standards were maintained in his establishment, which was nevertheless full of prostitutes and thirsty miners? He also offered us a bath, but I could hardly imagine myself undressing in a room where only a thin wooden door separated me from strangers. For me, nothing was worth a good river.

Since we had nothing else to do, we ordered a large bottle of whiskey and two glasses, before going upstairs, where we were less exposed to curious glances. In one corner of the room, we enjoyed our beverage and relaxed. It seemed it had been an eternity since the last time I had been able to appreciate a normal situation.

The drinks added-up as we discussed everything and nothing. It was interesting to see what effect alcohol could have on a man as taciturn as Charles. Although at the time we already had more in-depth conversations than he had with most of the band members, I felt him more relaxed, lighter. But suddenly, I saw his face become serious.

"There are two men there, I think I've seen them before. If they recognize me, we're going to be in trouble."

I watched the newcomers. At the moment, they were talking to girls on the stairs, but it would not be difficult for them to spot us if they turned their heads.

"Kiss me.

\- What ?!"

Not leaving him time to protest, I pulled on his shirt to attract him. At first surprised, he finally understands where I was coming from, gently pushing me against the dimly lit corner of the room. Alcohol helping, for a brief moment we forgot why we were kissing.

I finally came to my senses and pulled away, looking for the unwelcome men. They were still bantering with the girls, but now they turned their back on us.

"They're looking elsewhere. This is our chance. Come on, my room is this way."

After closing the door behind us, I could not suppress a laugh, no doubt encouraged by alcohol.

"Well, that's what I call a successful evening. All we have to do is hide. They're probably going to get laid fast and leave."

Charles remained silent. The taciturn man was back, as if the shock had removed all alcohol from his veins. I took a sip of whiskey to give me countenance, but I couldn't find anything to say to fill the void between us. He turned his back on me to observe the main street's activity through the window.

I sat on the bed, lighting a cigarette with a sigh. Too bad, it was a promising night. I don't know how long it took. There was still liquid left in the bottle, but I didn't want any more of it.

To be honest, I couldn't take that kiss out of my head. That intensity. It had been several months since a man had touched me, so that kiss... That kiss didn't help. And now there was like a distance between him and me. Tension. So thick that we could have planted a knife in it.

\----

Lost in my thoughts, I startled when Charles finally spoke.

"Here they are. They mounted their horses, we should be ok. I'll let you rest. You know where my room is if there's a problem."

What devil pushed me to speak, I still don't know today. My voice lashed, both confident and defeated.

"You're not going alone, right?"

He looked at me, stunned.

"I know... I know you like the company of these girls. I used to talk to them in Valentine, you know."

He didn't know what to answer, looking completely astonished. He probably didn't expect me to attack him head on. I took the opportunity to move towards him, placing myself on his way to the door.

"You can take the risk of going out and lose a few dollars. Or... You could stay here.

\- Anna, I don't think...

\- I know, I know, I don't compete with them and it could make things weird. But frankly, given the situation at camp, do you really think anyone would notice?

-Anna

\- Calm down, I'm not asking you to put a ring on my finger. I just want one night. One single night. And leaving tomorrow, we forget everything. Think of it as a service to a friend."

He remained silent and let nothing transpire of his emotions or his ideas. I sighed.

"I know, I'm ridiculous. They are much more desirable than me. Go on, I understand. But tell them to send me one of their not too demanding customers, because there is absolutely no way that you are the only one to/"

He didn't let me finish my sentence, slamming me against the door and kissing me intensely. His kisses tasted whiskey and tobacco.

Soon he lifted me up as if I weighed nothing and carried me to bed. It was a passionate, animal embrace. All the worries, the questions of the past weeks, we made them disappear for a time that belonged only to us. I gave up myself with delight, lost in the embrace of his sturdy arms.

\----

My head resting on his chest, I began to laugh softly. He looked at me, amused.

"You know, they always say how skilled you are. They don't know how right they are."

He smiled and kissed my hair. Very quickly, I fell asleep, finding the serenity that was so lacking in my sleep since I had joined the band.

When I woke up, the sun had not yet risen, but Charles was already dressing. Without a word, I imitated him. It was time for us to join the others. Before opening the door, I turned to him and kissed his cheek, before giving him a mischievous smile.

"And now we forget everything" I said as I passed the doorstep.

\-----

I had feared that; once the alcohol dissipated and our minds found back, an embarrassment would set in between us. But that was not the case. We returned to our daily lives as if nothing had happened, without any more intimacy or distance than before. As I said, it was just one night, a need to satisfy, no matter with whom.

At the camp, no one noticed anything, of course. Surviving the heat and boredom was the only concern of my companions. Miss O'Shea had left without a word, sneaking into the night without anyone seeing her doing it. The poor girl, she was only there for Dutch's love, and he had made her drool.

I don't know how much time has passed since the Saint-Denis crisis. One afternoon, I was sitting at the back of the cabin, vainly trying to endure the heat, when I heard Abigail calling for us. " _Hey everybody, look who's there"_. It took me several seconds to realize that, in front of me,Arthur was standing. With a laugh of joy, I hugged him.

Our desperate wait was finally coming to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter, this chapter. It gave me a hard time and I'm not really proud of it! I wanted something to happen between them, but I absolutely didn't want it to be a premeditated or romantic thing. I really wanted it to be an impulse of the moment, just a need to satisfy. So I shamefully used the method of kissing to hide, which 1- was done 1000 times and 2- is not credible: a tall black native American kissing a white woman dressed as a man to be discreet, we saw better. BUT I had no other ideas so here it is, it's done. Thanks for reading and see you soon for new adventures:)


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